A blue flower with red thorns so rare and bright,
Its petals soft, its hue a sky so bold,
Its beauty is beyond what words can write,
Its fragrance and its thorns a tale untold.
Its rarity, a symbol of love's desire,
A ritual that by many is held true,
Its petals plucked and gifted, with no fear
Of the sharp thorns that pierce the heart anew.
Its beauty both a gift and curse, it seems,
A reminder of the risks love can bring,
A symbol of the passion that it teems,
And of the dangers that such love can sting.
Yet still, this blue flower with its red thorns,
Is sought by those who seek love's sweet reward,
And thus its beauty is a song that mourns
The dangers that love's sweet fire adorns.
About the Creator
Michael Bivens
Most of my works published here exists as lore from the world of Illorim, an original creation by me that's been supported and cooperatively built through shared story-telling.
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Comments (1)
I would greatly appreciate it if you could take a few moments to read my poem and share your thoughts. Your feedback would be incredibly helpful in refining and improving my work.