deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Forest and The Rose
walking through a wasteland with a rose in hand
to the forest searching for comfort,
but the forest never did bring solitude but the serenity
placed by the song of the birds from the trees,
and now the forest's lullaby cradles me
in his arms sewn with good willed lies,
soothing a heart pierced with the thorns of the rose
a rose I once held so close with blind eyes,
but my eyes are now wide open
and I see that her love was never true,
but laced with the poison fruit of vanity
bringing pestilence of the heart,
and I became her broken marionette
shattered by the mirror's reflection
and the false will for a perfect image,
and now my demeanor
looks like depression with a smile,
and the forest can't seem to help me
as with the passing of time
the dreamer within me died,
and the rose withered away
and my tears still fall in remembrance
of the one who broke me into sadness
and now drags me to the obscurity of death,
and the forest left me to the wasteland
burnt by cancer of the bars.
to the forest searching for comfort,
but the forest never did bring solitude but the serenity
placed by the song of the birds from the trees,
and now the forest's lullaby cradles me
in his arms sewn with good willed lies,
soothing a heart pierced with the thorns of the rose
a rose I once held so close with blind eyes,
but my eyes are now wide open
and I see that her love was never true,
but laced with the poison fruit of vanity
bringing pestilence of the heart,
and I became her broken marionette
shattered by the mirror's reflection
and the false will for a perfect image,
and now my demeanor
looks like depression with a smile,
and the forest can't seem to help me
as with the passing of time
the dreamer within me died,
and the rose withered away
and my tears still fall in remembrance
of the one who broke me into sadness
and now drags me to the obscurity of death,
and the forest left me to the wasteland
burnt by cancer of the bars.
Published 19th Jan 2016
| Edited 6th Feb 2016
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19th Jan 2016 10:35pm
but laced with the poison fruit of vanity
bringing pestilence of the heart,
and I became her broken marionette
shattered by the mirror's reflection,
This passage exemplifies what I like about this poem. Poignant and accurate word choice, a splendid tone, and the pain of love. The places in the poem are interesting - a wasteland that merges into a lying forest. I enjoyed the ride my friend :)
bringing pestilence of the heart,
and I became her broken marionette
shattered by the mirror's reflection,
This passage exemplifies what I like about this poem. Poignant and accurate word choice, a splendid tone, and the pain of love. The places in the poem are interesting - a wasteland that merges into a lying forest. I enjoyed the ride my friend :)
23rd Jan 2016 10:55pm
