THE ROSE

You have roads yet

Left to pave.

Place a black rose

Upon my grave.

Blood will flow,

As thorns will sting.

Complete my quest,

All hail the King.

You have worlds yet

Left to save.

Place a black rose

Upon my grave.

The flame and blood

Shall nourish the Rose.

Cleanse my soul,

Ease my throes.

War's bloody flag

Shall ever wave.

Place a black rose

Upon my grave.

Patrick W. Crocker ©