The Dying Rose

I had opened the double doors.
Where in the sanctuary was the rose?
Its sweet softness
Beyond the smelting embers
Quivering in the altar of love.

You dared feel my soul
in its white heat

when crouching within my door
intoxicated
by the lotus
you indulged
and I am left
- lingering.

As the morning cock
ignores my despondency
I loiter in reddening autumn leaves.

I have yearned embrace.
Now, I lose track of your rejection
your puritan fetish.
That mangled the apple breasts
you ravished
when you tasted the lily
of loves madora.

Constantly disturbed
by throbbing yearning,
I regret the tainted Eucharist,
of virgin milk and blood
the sacrament
to a divine love
that you made pornography
as the rose wilts
corrupted.

-opus125

(in the spirit of Wu Tsao)

Image: The dying rose… by ~DealingHeart

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