Black Rose of Death.

Black rose of death
come prick me with thy thorns,
so my blood can mingle with your scent.
Then, lie down beside me when my life is spent.

Let me awake in heaven’s arms
as Angels sing your sweet praise.
O, black rose of death thou art magic,
just one little prick ends everything tragic.

You do not die death’s messenger.
You spread your fragrance far and near.
Inhaled by all regardless of class,
to sleep eternal as cold as glass.

You are feared!

Reviews

[Soren]

Marie this poem has dark tones. It starts at the roots, climbs up the stems and flowers. It smells sweet to the scent and is deceptively beautiful. The second stanza shows light in the darkness. The ending of pain. The third stanza shows death impartiality. I cannot help but read a bit deeper and taking death for change as it is in the tarot cards. This poem takes on a new meaning. We asked for a change and in it find enlightenment and growth. Nevertheless, despite its fragrance, we resisted and stay as we are, frozen cold as glass. We fear it a wonderful write.

[Marie]

I am indebted to you dear Soren, for adding meaning to the words I wrote. It was inspired by a tattoo I saw a photograph of. Gratitude for reading and for your wonderful review. Wishing you a very nice evening, blessed and peaceful to enjoy...

[The_Ancient_Rock]

"inhaled by all regardless of class"...
I do love that line, so true.
Very well written. Greatly penned.
Usually, all creatures fear death, I guess.
Keeps us alive longer.
I very much enjoyed reading this poem.
Well done. Thank you for sharing.
Take good care Marie.
Blessings.

[Writer at last! Sky ~]

This is amazing Marie. I really the way you described the death and related it with the black rose. Your thy, thou thee old English is like a cherry on the top of cake.

[Marie]

Thank you for reading, Sky and for your very kind words. I am pleased you like the word "thy" as I too, like the old English very much. Gratitude, with every good wish, dear poet...

[Writer at last! Sky ~]

Welcome Marie. Yes, the old English is really beautiful. Even, I've used it many times in my poems. It really gives a punching impact. You're a gem 💎

[Marie]

Thank you so very much, Sky. It is still spoken in Yorkshire, UK. I am so pleased you use it too! I hope to come across it when I read your work. Thank you again, Sky...

[Writer at last! Sky ~]

Glad to know that Marie! You're always welcome 💫

[Marie]

Thank you, dear poet...

[Pete]

"o death, where is thy sting"? to face our own inevitable mortality. it certainly levels the playing field. somber yet hopeful with a perfumed visit.

[Marie]

Thank you for reading and for your very kind and encouraging comment, Pete...