Dead Love
Poetry For the mind

She cries silently within her soul
Her eyes are dry, black like coal,
Her voice cracks in the approach
to speak, while shaking hands out
of fear bled not sweet.
Thus not shout within the walls
ancient corps asleep
side by side a dead rose.
A tear makes its way out of her eye,
brakes the soil which was dry , a
infant rose starts to bloom, the
dead smile in the light of the moon.
Alive she cried, knee deep in the
rich soil, my princess is alive once
again. I am happy.

Poetry by George Bersis