The Black Rose

inspired by my own experience...

There is a rose so deep,so dark  No glints of light or little spark  Nay people lay their eyes on her  They misconstrue her limpid care  She is a rose on gothic tomb  No lifeblood creeps her catacomb  The moonbeams wish to give her life  But every ray begets a strife  There is a dead rose withering  Spoiled by winter,putrefying  Somehow,somewhere there's poetry  That saw her with grim prodigy;  A monolith of weird banshees  The kinds that stirs the poetess.  There is a black rose on the floor  Quashed in the darkroom,evermore.