Field of Roses (Poetry)

We all live our own unique life, it matters not what you do,

Lives that creates a ceaseless field of roses.

A field of roses, sparkling yellow, red, white and pink,

Which unpretentiously develop amidst time,

What's more, step by step, their heads effectively rise,

Gradually achieving the reasonable blue sky.

In any case, we may encounter some dreary circumstances,

That are maybe caused by ruins from the past,

Every destruction resembles a falling petal.

Like a man falling from grace, a petal at a time,

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Regardless who, whether lover or a parent,

All of a sudden leaves our hearts broken,

Which brings about a perpetual, difficult scar.

In any case, as this developing agony gradually enters

Slowly, controlling the base of our body and soul,

To find out at last that only our shadow remains.

As our body, our stem remains solitary,

Feeble, parched, step by step falling into the warm earth's dirt.

Also, similarly as there were times that put us

In a condition of depression and despondency,

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New lives start to bloom

As the dust's inward quality paints them gold.

Life, it isn't something of dread nor disgrace,

Yet, something that will ceaselessly fall and rise.

In this way, let the lives be noteworthy, brilliant roses,

Roses that radiance in the fields for eternity.

CCO Creative Commons Images from Pixabay [1], [2], [3]

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