Belief In The Rose
The rose bows its head
From the hedge to the shade,
In the whispering calm
Of the cool colonnade,
Unravelling dreams and deeds
As it unfurls the heavy scent
I tried to reach,
Its poisonous dreams so clear,
Where death is death
And joy is joy so sweet.
And I forgot your tattered head,
Your rain battered dress
And I forgot your dark caress...
I want your thorns to cut my flesh,
My sallow flesh.
Your petals fall
But your thorns they remain,
Though seasons I want
For your blood flower again;
And wisdom and time they tried
To scorn your world
But in the rose I will believe,
Your pleasure, your pain, your dreams
Where death is death
And joy is joy so sweet.