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Soliloquy of the Rose.

Each moment past her gentle sun-kissed bloom,
As scarlet petals stretch to where light lie.
Grey skies are cast foreshadowing dark gloom,
Not long from hence all roses wilt and die.
For that she knows and glistens in the rain,
Content with life's brief treasures in the wood.
Come dusk her lips are sore from creatures lain,
For she as nature's whore is understood.

Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 12:24 AM CST