Rose Garden

Touched and tainted,
A tainted flower she wanted no more;

Waited she did,
Until the day she could find
A stalk so pure;

Seasons shift,
The will of taint was ignored;

Alas,
Eve arises,
All's left
Were roses on the floor.

Blatantly shutting hopes that soar,
Her heart mourns for her dreams they tore.

-EvaLuna

Wednesday, June 2, 2010