Field of Roses

Beautiful roses, beautiful name
Their thorns prick wielder and bring Forth pain.
Bring Forth blood as dark as its own
Soaking its soul thats long been stone

Born in the valley of angels, the valley of souls
The valley of things that cant grow old
the field of flowers,the field of roses
the field of all the things that hold us.

A forest of whispers,the ghosts of light
from the rivers of the night
Look upon the rose, but don't be daunted
The rose is a gift from the haunted

Shadows of beauty, traces of light
pass toward this field tonight
come this way so that you may see
what it is that beckons thee

Intertwining vines of the soul
Weave themselves just like a rose
Captured souls waiting to be free
woven into this field for eternity

PLEASE RATE and comment>(i will do the same with your poem):)