Friday, April 18, 2008

The Scarlet Rose

Come like the dusk
You are my lust
burn me into dust.

Like a rose,
love was born to bloom
your wrath then has torn it into doom.

Don't look at me the way you do
your eyes are my thorns,
your lips are your sword.
Your beauty killed me,
I loved and died where your scarlet rose grow.

With silent whispers
i cry your name.
Don't touch me.
Don't take me.
Don't breack me.
(c) Diana Mistera 2008
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