A Thought

 

Waves break against the cliffs,

The cliffs corrode over time,

As does my heart the poem drifts,

The darkened caverns of my mind.

Yet in the darkness of the grave,

 The sweet rose blooms.

Reviews

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Hmm...I like the swift turn at the end from darkness to beauty. The third line gives me trouble though. I feel as if it doesn't fit somehow, or maybe it isn't worded right. I think this one could use just a little work but it's a really good start.