

The RoseThe Rose sits, It stares into the light. No need to know how it got there, It feels that it is right. A darkness overwhelms it, The object blocks the sun. A sharp pain at it's waist, The evil has been done. The Rose sits, It stares into the light. For hopes of dying soon, To end it's life imprisoned.The Rose
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fading in the future
the past awaits
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when you lose ewerything . art is still here !
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