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Poetic Eagle Jul 2021
Roses have thorns,
Even the beautiful things can s hurt you
Random thoughts
Angela Rose Jul 2021
I am going to continue to water you even when your thorns stab me
I am going to continue to assist your growth even though your thorns don't want me to touch you
You're going to be the most beautiful thing my garden has ever seen
O Divine Matchmaker, pay heed to my plea.
I guard an egress open ajar, crusted by thorns
I guard this world against the odium behind it
I guard this door, not in service, Matchmaker.
My hands, grip on the barbs of this doorway
To keep it ajar, for a glimpse of my remittal;
Of the extant light of my sole soul so brittle,
Anneliese, Blessed with a name so celestial,
Anneliese, Cursed with a burden so menial,
Placidly fostering the lives behind that door.
Anneliese, my only mud-soaked nightingale.
O Divine Matchmaker, answer my quandary.
Am I to serve this world as an eternal Atlas?
Am I to forsake my mud-soaked nightingale?
Is our union ignoble to you, O Matchmaker?
How many unanswered sunsets remain alas?
In distraught, a thousand misereres, I penned
In every breath, I pine to pen a thousand more.
If only I had a drop of ink left…
If only I had a drop of ink left…
This is for someone who has gripped my dreams. A world that shook my dreams. I hope you enjoyed this little work of mine.
Spriha Kant Jun 2021
This heart, if like a flower provides fragrance to others
Then it also tramples the love for those and memories of those who ***** it with their thorns
As this heart isn't made of flowers.

©Spriha Kant
Eloisa Jun 2021
And she adorned her evenings
with roses and rhymes,
words and thorns.
A night even with her sacred vessels,
she still got lost in a storm
Hamna Jun 2021
Today,  I picked up flowers of life with glee

Tomorrow, the thorns of death shall pick me without any glee

Today I enjoyed the temporary pleasures of the world

Tomorrow, I shall dwell with the displeasures of death

The funeral ahead is declaring ‘O humans of this earth’
‘Follow my lead since I am your guide.’
Sayyidunā Abul-Ḥujjāj Šumālī رضي الله عنه narrates that the Holy Prophet صَلَّى اللّٰهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّم said, “When the dead person is laid into the grave, the grave says to him, “May you be destroyed! Why did you forget me? Didn’t you know that I am the home of troubles and darkness? Why did you use to walk on me arrogantly?” If the deceased is pious, a voice from the unseen says, “Oh grave! He is one of those who always spread goodness and prevented evil” The grave says, “If it is so, I will become a garden for him.” The body of the person then becomes Nūr and his soul goes towards the court of Allāĥ Almighty” (Musnad-e-Abī Ya’lā, Ḥadīš 6835, V6, P67, Dār-ul-Kutub-ul-‘Ilmiyyaĥ,
Beirut)
StormriderIX Apr 2021
Idle days thinking...

All the time we
Make mistakes.

Time heals us.
Is it true?
Roses have thorns.
Evidentially the same applies to time.
Doesn't it?
I'm tired.
KyleB Apr 2021
Not all flowers have thorns
but roses do

roses are special, they are beautiful
just to the likes of you

so many flowers are pretty
but nothing compares
to the aesthetic of roses

and that's why they are aware.

their thorns protect them
they are born to fight

but they keep us silent,
cut our voices
they make us die

some people don't like roses
or don't like their thorns
they'll cut off their leaves
because they aren't thorns
and they'll cut down the thorns because nothing should be in the way

of their love

or so they say

when they cut our thorns
they are so proud
but do they know they take the rain out of clouds?

they break the spell,
they obstruct the beauty
sometimes they go ahead and just shoot me

I wonder, I wonder
oh dear rose of mine
why you die, oh you die
without your thorns sublime

not all flowers are roses
but none wishes to be
for the life of a rose

is as miserable as torture makes us be
Ronin Mar 2021
you told me
the roses in my garden
weren't red enough,
so i changed them.

then
you told me
the roses in my garden
weren't big enough,
so i changed them.

finally,
you told me
no matter what i did
my roses would never be pretty
enough for you,
so i cried.

i let you trample up all
my roses
and i took the thorns and the petals
and i chewed them up,
and spit them in your face.

but one thorn
got swallowed
and it
remains stuck in my
throat to this
very day.

for every lie i get told
i swallow a thorn
how many boys would it take,
to get my rose garden back?


& i never even promised you a rose garden.
based on the book titled "i never promised you a rose garden"
Lucas Mar 2021
A rose and a cactus fell in love.
They understood each other's thorns.
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