Dead RosesA Poem by SyberRoseThe night becomes alive with dead roses, their essence still in the air wilted petals still bleed with passion violins mourn this starry affair. In the peaceful slumber of the night, silhouettes quietly appear. Behind the cobwebs of the fog, a mist of lavender tears. Whispers echo in the moonlight, shadows come alive in the breeze, dead roses soft as black velvet, a wingspan of blackbirds in the trees. The night becomes alive with dead roses, but wilted petals still bleed with passion. ©SyberRose
© 2013 SyberRose
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StatsAuthorSyberRoseVAAboutWelcome to my profile: I was born in England, and raised in the U.S and now living in Virginia. I write mostly of romance and nature....I prefer not to send read requests so if you wish just read at y.. more..Writing
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