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Array ( [sid] => 80988 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => where the wild roses grow [time] => 2005-01-22 12:39:14 [hometext] => it was inspired by the auchwitz holocaust camps and a documentry i heard about the myths and legends of the pain and distress that still haunts their today. one rumour was of deathly roses that grew only in the dark, it inspired me... [bodytext] => in the darkness,
of the shallow mud pit seas,
where the wild roses grow,
no birds fly over the trees,
the petals are bleak,
wilted yet thriving,
strong life grows yet keeled and weak,
it lives to wither and perish,
hidden from the sun but light it shall seek,
cutting and sharp, bitten at the thorns,
yet are still strong enough,
they survive great storms,

the skies seem black,
but the shadows are bold,
walking through the frozen grass,
numb and wet yet i cannot feel the cold,

nothing can hurt them now,
no feet to tread upon their delicasies,
as where the wild roses grow,
no wind passes through at ease,

caught back on weeds,
feeling no pain,
yet the cut still bleeds,
and blood still leaves its stain,
as where the wild roses grow,
death dosnt come when you freeze,

nothing can hurt them now,
no hands to tear them to death,
no sting of pain,
no stone hearts pulling at petals in fear of regret,

love him so,
love her not,
the roses still birth,
yet their presence damned and forgot...

[comments] => 1 [counter] => 168 [topic] => 31 [informant] => in2thetwilightzone2 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )

where the wild roses grow

Contributed by in2thetwilightzone2 on Saturday, 22nd January 2005 @ 12:39:14 PM in AEST
Topic: StoryPoetry

in the darkness,
of the shallow mud pit seas,
where the wild roses grow,
no birds fly over the trees,
the petals are bleak,
wilted yet thriving,
strong life grows yet keeled and weak,
it lives to wither and perish,
hidden from the sun but light it shall seek,
cutting and sharp, bitten at the thorns,
yet are still strong enough,
they survive great storms,

the skies seem black,
but the shadows are bold,
walking through the frozen grass,
numb and wet yet i cannot feel the cold,

nothing can hurt them now,
no feet to tread upon their delicasies,
as where the wild roses grow,
no wind passes through at ease,

caught back on weeds,
feeling no pain,
yet the cut still bleeds,
and blood still leaves its stain,
as where the wild roses grow,
death dosnt come when you freeze,

nothing can hurt them now,
no hands to tear them to death,
no sting of pain,
no stone hearts pulling at petals in fear of regret,

love him so,
love her not,
the roses still birth,
yet their presence damned and forgot...

Copyright © in2thetwilightzone2 ... [ 2005-01-22 12:39:14]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: where the wild roses grow (User Rating: 1 )
by liquidsunshine on Saturday, 22nd January 2005 @ 01:21:02 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

This is beautiful!!! I love the way the story of the holocaust and the story of the roses seem to be one and the same at times.
I... I'm speechless... I can't describe how well written and inspirational this poem is.
Brilliant. Purely briliant.

Lots of love and peace be with you,

Chelsea

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