Soul's Rose
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
0
Altın Yaprak
Perfumed odor of death, filling my nostrils with overwhelming
fragrances of a multitude of flowers.
Standing out among them all, the scent of a freshly cut rose
from the vine of life, being laid to rest amid the softened
white of last night's snow.
Timidly lying, clasping the rose within her soul, rising to
heaven without another thought or word.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş