Intense pain, bitterness, sleeplessness and sighs,
Sickness, moans, Lamentations and sorrows,
Incessant tears, food and the strength of sorrow,
Fate destined me, yes, you turned against me, and deafness unto me, O Heaven!

I would prefer Death which is far more sweet;
Embrace it
O! My suffering soul,
Express your desire, show your tangled hair,
Call for the Beauty, the Beauty most cruel.

Someone came with a broken wing;
I thought it was Death and I fell...
Yet it was not Death who came to succor me, nor was it Love, The Beauty,
Who I adore,
But was Hope itself smiling full of joy!

**** me now for I am none
And Death itself would find to hide its head
And dear sorrow brings to lament upon my death
Goodbye, love...farewell

Amongst friends sits the shrew.
A tear glistens so bright ,
he's happy, through and through.

Ecstatic young blossoms
resting amongst the thorn
crawling from the bottom

Never a rose without thorns
You broke my heart
And left me scorned

i found a book in the garden this morning
the cover boasted two letters-
a bold font
and messy handwriting
like a child trying to prove
that he knew what he was saying-
"us"

the roses thorns cut me when i dug for it
but the blood
shone like smiling rubies
and it didn't hurt
and the earth
under my fingernails
smelled like youth

i found dried red dots
on the first page of the chapter entitled
"where have you been all my life"
and i noticed i wasn't the only one
who felt this way

So radiant and fascinating is a flower's beauty ,
Protected by its thorns revealing a loyal duty ...

hurt grows
in the dark un-monitored corners
of the most wonderful, wonderful people

grief is a seed
incubated in all of us
....
unexpectedly the jagged thorns
                        slash
the gentlest hands reaching out for you

You wont know
You don't notice

You were like a flower.
But a rose without petals.

*Nothing but thorns.