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The rose thorn pokes the finger drawing blood

To Show that even beauty must be handled with care

And upon this bloody finger, shall a kiss be placed

To Remind us of the tenderness of Subtlety

And when the wound is healed and the scar is gone

Who will remember the lesson; if not for the bleeder

For the rose is a symbol of love and the finger

a symbol of man, for that which we learn is also

that which we love, and that which we love

can also wound us, and that which is beautiful may also be Wicked

And then let the wicked speak as she smiles and says

'May your blood poureth to show the tenderness I

require and remembereth the moment when love

lies bleeding that I can be your savour as much

as your tormentor'

O who shall tame the rose and master her beauty

and leave the rose to bathe in a pool of blood

For love is in the heart and blood the liquid of love

May admonish the wicked and caress the beauty

Doth thy finger bleedeth willingly in thy shadow of love



By Darryl (Daristotle) McMillan



This poem was found and sent to me by my husband. He asked me to post it in my journal for all to read.