Secrets' Thorns

A confession.

It is night; he forever holds me in his embrace. From a humble world I come; from a gracious world I will go. If peace was all I were to find, happy I would be. My past comes in like the rain; when distant, it is only a mere shadow falling from clouds. If a woman is a rose, let not my thorns overshadow me. I have stumbled over needle point, ran from the love of raging fists, and had my light dimmed by closet doors, but I will not give in. My virtue stolen, youth taken by spiders’ webs, and innocence lost in poison, I will never falter. Love lost forever in winter’s grasp, blood taken on blades edge, and a loss so great all light shut out by blankets and blinds, but I live. I know not why I now speak, why I now confess, but it is with this ugliness that I find beauty. Each thorn fills a chapter in my creation, like building blocks on a great vine covered wall. In my garden, I wait to find one rose. A rose with thorns; one imperfect, enchanting rose. Will my garden wilt, or shall it bloom with the beauty created by the thorns from which I match? Shall these thorns build a new world or topple it down? May the stars of the night guide my confession, for roses know only the unconditional love they sew.

Reviews

[Tate Morgan]

I see endless hope in this and if mankind comes to an end you dear will be the last one still standing

[STAR CHILD]

this has both sadness and beauty it draws you in and captivates the soul it captivating and keeps you enthralled to the end how wonderful it is