The Rosen Maiden

This is the Part two of the story, you can read part one on

The Rosen Maiden

The Rosen maiden of tears and sorrow

Stares emptily like a broken sparrow

In my garden she walks barefoot on pieces of glass, smearing

The trail of blood she has drowned herself from within

Yet, she walks hunched broken and bound

Unwilling to be set free, not even to be found

She has enclosed herself behind the doors of my mind

Witnessing no night or day, demanding to be utterly blind

Yet into her seclusion came more agony and despair

Until the darkness she wished for ignited her gasps for air

Yet, she is a maiden in distress unable to be retrieved

From the darkness she with her own hands weaved

Bound by the mocking birds of fate she will shatter

And through her withering life she is destined to suffer

Disdain has come to watch her bleed

And haunting violating regrets breed,

Nothing but a spawn of darkness, empty with broken wings

So she is the nightingale that shrieks when it intends to sing

She was bound to life with sorrowful thorns

Until her body crumbles from its fatal burns

Alas, which rose is all beauty without pain?

Yet will the Rosen maiden bloom under the dying rain?

Towards the girl in my garden of sour grapes she walks

And wants me to cradle their pain, as each of them stalks

Alas, Am I destined to surpass my destiny and break this unending chain?

Nay, for every time I yank the chain I am reinforced with excruciating pain

Now both girls intertwine under my sour grape vines sharing their sorrow

Speaking of the disdain and unending cycle of pain promised by tomorrow

As both girls sink in their own flood of blood

The Rosen Maiden blooms a single black bud

Only this bud smells nothing but despair and scorn

For every trial in life to them was a deadly thorn

I stare at their reflection in an anonymous puddle of water

To watch both images shatter, combine and smother

The shattered pieces of a heart un-mended

Of a world that scars you eternally though unintended

Forming, two faces of the same coin, destined to destroy me

Yet will they ever let me yank that chain free?

As I stare into their shattering images I finally realize

That no matter how fast I run I can’t escape my demise

For by the end of the day, a rose by any other name

Will carry the same scent of death, and destructive flame

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Comments 5 comments

Rosemay50 profile image

Rosemay50 4 years ago from Hawkes Bay - NewZealand

You write some very deep and intriguing poetry.

Loved this one

jenubouka 4 years ago

Wow Uriel, such an incredible part two, I did not realize to anticipate one, but grateful for it now!

raciniwa profile image

raciniwa 4 years ago from Naga City, Cebu

i can't fathom the depth of the scar that's left inside this rose right evocative poetry Uriel...

Uriel profile image

Uriel 4 years ago from Lebanon Author

Rosemay I am really glad you liked this on :)

jenubouka :D thank you for your support :D glad you liked it :)

Raciniwa :) it is an honor :)

Elmira 2 years ago

It's much easier to unsrdetand when you put it that way!

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