My Morose Rose
Up so high, in the growing sky
Is the sun shining its rays.
Yet dark clouds, this nightly crowd,
Blocks the sun from praise.
The burning depth, my heart inept
To feel the same ever last.
Now dark skies, through teary eyes
See nothing but pain at vast.
Near my limit, of consuming remnant
Of harsh memories that grow.
Let all the light, pass by my blight
In harder times I know.
Under me I see, the wife to be
But now I dropped in pose.
The death of thee, is the death of me
As left with my morose rose.