The Rose of life
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How can life beat when it has no heart?
When war, love, anger, and illness tare it apart
How can life continue when
hate, jealousy, and sin corrupts those
who once had a caring heart?
Love too can be a dagger that pierces the sole
to some its a lightless shadow that forces people to walk blindly
through the ever lasting thorn of life
To others even in the darkest of shadow o light can be found
those few...those lucky few doeth walk in the light
those few do sayeth life is like a rose
It grows and bares leaves and then soon buds
to soon spread its soft petals and scent the air about it
But yet again no rose cometh with no thorn to pick those who carry it
but even those pricks can be forgotten because of the ever forgiving love of the frail and yet soft petals of the bud
But to me...
I can see the truths in both truths
that life comes as a rose to only bloom then gradually wilt and only the sharp thorn's are left
but looking back on the dead corps you can remember every detail from its now gone youth
then feel a mix of emotions but no matter what its life is through