Sweet White Rose Girl A white rose he brought her every day In imitation of her he always would say so sleek so slender pale as the moon sweet scented ornamented and always in bloom Every night his fangs would pierce her stemmed neck turning his sweet white rose girl a deep burgundy red The years died away his face stayed the same she wilted and faded but his love never waned He laid her to rest one evening in June as she passed on his sweet white rose girl to the stars and the moon Now he wanders the earth every night is the same as he picks her white roses and remembers her name Rose thorns he uses to pierce his cool neck as his blood flows in droplets staining those sweet white rose heads a deep burgundy red One day he will cease to exist on this plain but not before he's stained all the white roses in memory of her blood red with his veins. By Joanne (2001) |
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