Oktober 30, 2009

Lust

Little Rose grows purely around the jasmines,

Little Rose is brightly full of spirit, looking for the path where it makes it simply filled,

Growing amazingly perfect that turns up jealousy toward jasmines,

Thus, little Rose amuse every creatures though its thorns grow frightened them bad,

The Little Rose wills still innocence and well-raises,

Purely simple,

Purely adorable,

Purely independence,

Purely agreeable,

No pompous path in life,

Brings kindness, happiness, full with sincerity to nature

Until then, The Little Rose holds into its Root,

Surviving into the driest desserts,

Crawling across the mountains,

Sailing through the oceans,

The Rose wills faithfully holding on the Root

But,

The wicked green flickers upon its dim fainted little Rose,

Destructing its thorns away,

Let the Root away,

But, the loyal Root is waiting for its Little Rose to revert,

Nature has the blues so does the Root,

Waiting in silence upon the universe

The Little Rose is no more thorn. Hence the flames have broken the Root of hers.

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