Black Rose

Sleep is the cousin of death, but time is in relation, 
casket sensations inside the body of a bag. 
   Flowers that grow don't always bloom in the light. 
In spite of what you might think, 
the dead dies with untold secrets 
   Those lips that kiss as soft as sin 
were once a single rose, she bloomed, 
from within.  

Reviews

[Holly Mason]

there is a lot of meaning behind these words
thank you for sharing

[Nithin Purple]

wonderful philosophy i like it somuch