Between Angels and Demons

 

Roses when picked should dangle from a noose.

Roses should be left in the ground.

Roses should not be grasped; for a hand not to be pricked.

Let fools grasp the thorns.

Let fools bleed.

And with muffled breaths, suffocate.

Smeared in deep red, drown.

Under white petals, powdered by poison.

 

Because between angels and demons stood cushions of roses.

Scattered when you’re gone.

When scattered, is gone.

 

Reviews

[Emily B]

there's something about this, the way you've set up the lines it's eerie as hell . . . spooky stuff, like those dreams where you can't see peoples faces or dolls that aren't put together yet. And there's something still prophetic about the words, predicting a gray future world or something

and I still haven't wrapped my mind all the way around it, guess I'll be back :)

[Jason Henry]

when reading it i get chills, but i'm tryin sooo hard to understand it. in a simple-minded orientation, i could put meaning to it, but i'm tryin to interpret its complexities...nevertheless, a great write

[Emily B]

it occurs to me today, that of all the things that should separate the two entities. . . miles or mountains or tall gates with big padlocks, roses are maybe the most stunning thing you could have picked

highly effective poetry style you've got . . . you are one of my favorites on the site

[Emily B]

between angels and demons . . .

I shouldn't even be here with all I've got to have done by tomorrow morning, I'll be back :)