shironbarbaros
Wanderer
I am the Apathetic Fallacy and the Lesser DeathChild. Fear my Pain...
Posts: 36
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Post by shironbarbaros on May 5, 2007 2:14:40 GMT 1
A beautiful white rose alone amongst tall weeds and grass. Not a single flower stands against its perfection. Both man and beast trodden upon the flower yet still it stands strong. But as years go by the flower dies for it cries where it shant belong.
As winter subsides the flower blooms again in radiance as powerful as the sun. But no longer is the flower without blemish. Scars not of time nor of physical punishment show. But a single red streak adorns its once pretty face for a tear of oblivion cried shows darkness deep inside.
Upon the same root grows another rose. one as crimson death. This flower is wilted and shattered though new to this world it has no life.
Together the flowers grow, spawning life anew.
Love had grow inside the garden. But broken it would become.
Another flower bloomed black as truthless hearts. But charm and power stole the white rose away.
Once more the winter fades to reveal the pain behad. Crimson death is once more wilted this time beyond repair.
White radiance is torn asunder by he whom she loved. For he had fallen in with weeds. Assassins of the beauty to be had.
The spring is here but no flowers remain all things died and blood shall rain. Love is lost once again hearts are broken pedals stained...
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