La tristeza de las rosas

For all my favorite Roses
Born into tragedy;
   she is celebrated, adored, nurtured, envied, blessed -
   she is beaten, sacrificed, scrutinized, enslaved, damned -
Sadness accompanies her along moon-lit sands,
She knows that with Sadness comes calloused hands.
Her footsteps mirage a tale of fallen beauty-
Precise and controlled, yet liberating;
Here was, the silhouette of a woman who wears sadness like a Queen.
With lips that part for careless whispers that ease self-loathing.
She weighs each sin upon her wrists, embracing the wholeness of emptiness-
Beauty blossoms, stemming from her fresh wounds she has evolved from enduring to living.
She dreams of
                                 c l o u d s &


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