DD - SpiralDancer - A Rose For The Dead

A Rose For The Dead

The rain begins to fall now,
Sweet, clear drops.
I'm getting wet, sat here now,
Though I care not.
And the crimson ink is running,
Seeping,
Bleeding.
Leaving dark, raised welts upon the pale, white page,
Like deep, bloody scratches, upon a lover's back.

The rain is falling heavy now,
Burning into me.
Into my stinging eyes now,
Though still clear I see.
The headstones, old as she, crying,
Weeping,
Bleeding.
Stained by many rains, now gone.
Gone,
Gone like those that had once mourned,
When it had seemed like a good idea,
At the time.
When flowers and gifts were left,
And words were spoken,
Whispered lies.

The rain is slowing, stopping now,
That clear, crisp smell.
I sit and smile now,
Laughing to myself.
The patterned streaks of blood red ink, drying,
Crying,
Bleeding.
Tears now lost,
Tears long dry.
All Faith lost.
In christian lies.
A faith I've never known,
The broken promise of flowers,
Left dying on the stone.

Upon this stranger's grave,
I place a blood red rose.
And speak to them this poem,
This patterned web of prose.
I thank you for your company,
Amongst this silent place.
Where family and friends once came,
No more they show their face.