The Black Rose

There was a black rose in a darker vase
Now listen to its sorrow laden tale
It scorned and cursed the burnished sunlit days
And hid behind a dreamer's dreary veil

It cursed its shackles made of leaf and thorn
And water failed its endless thirst to quench
It courted Night and shunned the hopeful Morn
And turned its fragrance to a vengeful stench

No soothing breeze its heart could ever stir
It only donned the dark hue of the soil
The Eclipse was its only Elixir
In waking life, no peace, in dreams turmoil

Its beauty dark and hollow, Love-deprived
No beast nor bird became its kith or kin
No song of Hope its dead heart could revive
The dew did naught but blister its black skin

I plucked it and preserved it to remind
My own young heart by its old tale of woe
That pain and pleasure live inside the Mind
And fed by perception they shrink or grow

Why waste the breaths of fragrance when the Truth
Of our fleeting existence is the Grave?
Why pay not obeisance to Love and Ruth
And offer Him the best of what He gave?

Reviews

[An owl on the moon]

There is such a depth in your writing... you pull back a veil to unleash the sacred, dark night. Your word choices provoke such wondrous imagery: "It cursed its shackles made of leaf and thorn.. And water failed its endless thirst to quench." Powerfully done!

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

enthralling surreal metaexplorations~ completely opens the visual field of the critical imagination~

[thatbryngirl]

this is reallyyyyy good.

[Alicante lullaby]

dark,hollow,beautiful...

[Fabian G. Franklin]

This was a dark and sad tale. I like my flowers a bit more on the joyful side. Why on earth man ever wanted to create a black rose is quite beyond me but roses are far from my favorite flowers. I'm a lover of the wildflowers more than cultivated greenhouse things. Wildflowers are stronger and more passionate. This line struck me as particularly sad, "Why waste the breaths of fragrance when the Truth
Of our fleeting existence is the Grave?" It's like saying why live when we must die? I would answer that with these lines from the late, great Jack London:
"I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather that my spark should burn out
in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom
of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The function of man is to live, not to exist.
I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time."

So the fragrance of life to me is in the living and not in the dry rot of the tomb.
No man can speak of heaven with any authority or the afterlife if such a thing exists. But I will use my time to teach the young, help the aged and bring laughter, peace and cheer to my fellow man. I simply don't have time for gloom and doom. I'm just too busy living.

[J.Black]

Brilliant, I felt its withering sorrow! Great imagery, like always. Captivating word choice, yet again, like always! Ha! Do I sound like a broken record player yet?! It's true though- you always have the perfect word choice to get in that moment. I really dislike death tales, but this one seemed to end on a question, where it was open for debate. Well done.