The Burning Rose
A beautiful gift from Mother Nature

The Burning Rose
A rose was born from storm and flame
not bound to earth, nor touched by name
its petals glowed with endless fire
each shade a hymn, each spark desire
It did not bend to summer’s will
it blossomed wild, it blossomed still
the colours swirled, they tore the night
they burned the dark with sudden light
A thousand voices hid inside
of all who bled, of all who cried
yet in that bloom their grief was spun
to blaze against a drowning sun
The roots were deep in soil of pain
yet beauty rose, a scar’s refrain
the stem was sharp, the thorns were true
a guard for hearts it never knew
A single flower, fierce and free
a mark of what the soul can be
a torch to burn, a voice to rise
a living fire that never dies

About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️



Comments (2)
Beauty does indeed mask the pain that many carry inside. This was a beautiful poem.
Love the idea of the living fire in the rose. Brilliant illustration too and really drew me into the poem. Really beautifully done and hope to soon congratulate you on a TS