The Devil’s Rose~by Norman Wilson

 

 

The Devil’s Rose

Their blood suckled by the morning dew
Beholding beauty in crimson hostage red
Filling their wounded hearts in full devil rose
Where the blooms of love fell in their stead

The devil has claimed his prize under stone
As petals, crimson-red once lightened their bed
Where he held court on thorns of a woven throne
For their worst rose was indifference that bled

They had taken their love-hate to their graves
With all the sting that came from the thorns
For the devil’s rose lay upon their oak coffins
For the passionate rose that was never reborn

Love’s indifference fades from time to time in time
Where obstacles, could have been easily lifted away
With a touch or a kiss with a gift of a single red rose
From the devil’s rose that bloomed red in late May