Dark-rose

You can only see darkness if you hail from light Of course we all fail — no man gains savvy experience with death and lives to tell it, or receives roses sent before the tomb. In the darkest hour of night, when all things stand still and straight, it is better to hear the soft voices of raindrops tapping your roof than the ripper eager, dying to greet you. By cold rationality, every rose bears green leaves — an amulet of life Yet why should the darkest rose carry the blame for our doomsday? A new dawn is breaking where narratives run clear, without bias, and all roses are finally stripped of their thorns.