The Ashen Black Rose

Hiding under moonlight,

Starring the sunset.

Weaving a pretty,

Threads blew across the loom.

Then crossing above head,

I found a little thread,

Missing past the hue,

Which etched a little black rose,

With emerald pairs and jadeite shares,

Over the corporal hues and within sands of time,

The nine hazels outshone wonders.

Scarring a destiny to be fulfilled,

Was all? She wonders,

With one day of royalty,

Of ruby silver and teal is all she got?

As marching on cue,

With an army of few,

Round the clock she worked,

With Marshall 'love' and 'duty' as general,

Lieutenant 'desire' go all hand in hand,

To fight the battle ,

We all know as mundane.

And finally when victory triumphs,

After years of shackles with 'me' aside and rage at bay,

For once she lived all for herself,

Relieved she stood in front of golden gates.

But little did she know about the black rose,

Laid on the cold stone engraved with,

'IN THE LOVING MEMORY OF ASHEN BLACK ROSE',

Once and for all she won.