The church's bell must ring
and the conscious of sin must enter for soul cleansing.
For thy innocent and beautiful pay the price of death for love and grace.
Be it to commemorate a significant event.
For this lead to the murder of rose.
Filled with beauty and an endless perception of love and romance
A stranger's dagger brought end of life with bare hand.
lived a life a bit too short
had a life but ended at start.
she lived a life whereby beauty and death brought love or close
an image of an identical reflection of all same features.
Lived in a please where colors meant nothing to compliment the dead.
No sunlight...
No pain...
No Sentiment...
She grew for someone so heartless to take away her innocence.
Something so pure and delicate...
Not feathers of angels could be softer that her very petals...
She was deflowered...
She was murdered...
Murder of rose...
A moment whereby time betrayed what was meant to be
and an untamed reality off leash brought to eyes something I was not to see.
Once again like a wild horse stampede, my thoughts race to the endless dirt road.
where angels fly high and pain hurts no more...
Death Of Rose.
Description:Of no conscience
My name: Daniel H. Schluckebier. I am slightly an aggressive person with a good sense of humor. Man on a mission with goals to achieve. I love spending time to myself or with weird and interesting people. I love writing and into artistic thinking. I enjoy creating new identities and tend to be multi-personalistic from time to time... Considered mysterious and random. Not to be annoyed or upset. Very easy going...
Friday, March 21, 2008
Murder of Rose...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I want to cry.
Who are you talking about? I know you too well that death is not literal but it makes me feel it now the less.
Post a Comment