|
Yellow Rose
Look how a white gull seems gray
Against a pale blue sky.
Love on demon wings
Recedes into the shade.
I’m drug through the mire
While my captors laugh
On the wrong sides of their mouths.
To ones shame be it spoken
What no words can paint.
Speared in the back by one carrying a yellow rose
While running on ground that’s falling away.
I wash my hands in my own filth
Just to rinse away their putrid scent.
As they dance on stage in confusion,
And the yellow rose lapses into rotted black.
|