Foreshadow

Don’t go into the night carrying yellow roses,
Thick thorns pressed between finger tips
Like sharp shards of broken glass.
The pale blues of bruising lay within your skin,
A darkened sanctuary, a blanketed home of sadness.
Caress your wounds with patient hands,
Holding your sorrows, yellow petals fall at your feet.
Burning eyes, tears tell truth not lies.
Truth dripping, tragic stories like biting rain,
Beating heart like thunder in midnights sky.
(Lightening strikes)

a.l.c

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