Oh rose so frail, in dew protest,
Your windowed petal you do contest.
Your beauty true, however bright.
As red it glows with all your might.
A tear shall fall, like waters waves.
The morn you wilt into your grave.
And eyes will see with graceous pride.
My dying flower, your will subsides.
© 12 hours ago
-
Author:
RSM (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 14th, 2026 00:52
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
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