AR (27 agosto 1982 / El Salvador)

A Rose

A gladly rose crawls his spines against my skin,
no blood, no scratches, just pain and many lies,
petal by petal looses his trade trough faith,
and unwittingly unleashes curses and dead....

A silver rose shines with a weaker glow,
flying among the grass and the silky sky,
drives my mind directly to insanity,
like an expert hunter kills all my ghostes....

so, there is none rose with perfect beauty,
none parfum petals to smell again,
a rose is a rose and pain is pain,
none secrets are hidden between love or hate...

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