Untitled Document

This specific poem was received through an extremely powerful vibration a few years after the untimely passing of Dianna
'Princess of Wales' and where a whole world's vibration felt lasting impacts

As if to send clear messages many Roses, even if taken in the prime of life, remain deeply imprinted to soils

SPECTRES OF ROSES

Petals of Roses now lay prone, appearing on the ground as if alone.
A fragrance lingers on, still willing and hoping to atone.

But thorns lay in wait, ready to deliver a sting, with judgment of events still to bring.
Beauty of the Rose once stood proudly, upright, even as if in pose. Scented
fragrance, aroma, whiff’s far and wide to fill the air, but only briefly.

Bring joy to those who might but care, while always reminded to stay aware.
Journey through fields of roses appearing as if tame, yet
afflicted by pollution of the sting.

Those endeavoring to remain sane, as rays as scented aromas
fill the air, but under the surface, lays a sting.

Thorns wait, ready to claw, tearing at flesh to inflict pain as if caught in mesh.
Flower and beauty of the rose, offer many colours, with petals to
emerge, hoping to reach out as light to a wider world.

There again to perish, even before having lived,
withering away as living creations, yet a life
having only begun.

One by one petals fall to the ground to go unnoticed.
Trodden underfoot as a sweet aroma tries lingering
on, but a foot does not notice, nor care
for a Rose once set so fair.

Those tendering, clearing gardens and parks,
sweep up remains of the now expended
and now simply left as rendered.

Some might be preserved as memories for an aroma
to linger on. Sweet smells of ultimate victory still
trying to reach out and there so atone.

Sweet smelling roses simply stolen, gone in a prime,
yet once having stood proudly, line by line.

Simply all taken for granted and no longer nurtured
in soils of sanity. Thorns wait in disguise,
ready to steal beauty of the wise.

Now gone, yet leaving behind shriveled stems
and still hoping to rise once more as reminders of
once sanity, which stood so proudly .

One day soon, no more roses will remain. All now withered,
taken during droughts of complacency. Gone forever
through expediency as flowers sewn in polluted
soils of insanity.

So formed my views of events, or as I call them 'Roses Of Sanity Empowered' (ROSE). In this instance, petals represent progress and stability, which has all now been eroded, faded, even sunken deep to polluted soils. All simply taken for granted, abused, hounded and lost forever. Slowly and surely souls wither, to ripple far and wide as whole nations are then left ashen to face a demise.