Of Roses and Me - Rose Blanche IV

 Rose Blanche - Poem Collection IV

Of Roses and Me

～～～～～～～Actually by: Zeerdank ～～～～～～～

And us, who were and still are, the rose. Our poems are stained in blood; our love endures.

Such is our way, we know not of anything else.

- Rose Blanche

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

I -  Hell is for the Stars

Hell hath no blazing fires,

Nor doth it ev’ell sires,

Dost all stars preach to choirs?

The sky to them dares lacking,

Not fit to be their backing,

Their idol is that tyrant Morningstar.

I… see that stars dost fit hell,

Their selfish brightness shows well,

On the dark skies of ev’ell.

What then is hell to fear of,

If brill’ant stars declaim love-

-And praise the black eternal hellish sky?

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

II -  An Ancient Dismays

What an intriguing sight,

That even gods can cry…

And by to cry, can they then die?

Or is the world still theirs?

For should the onus lay on them,

The horrid acts of men.

Doth that give them the cause to weep like so?

Tears, for one, at least of them…

Like blood of bleeding hearts,

For they can claim the acts of men,

As deviant to plans on high.

And as gods, they will smite them, will they not?

What causes thy sorrow, oh Ancient of Days?

Is thy tyranny for remorse?

Oh Ancient of Days, thy Ancient malaise does baffle!

Why not estrange the humanly bane?

What keeps thee awake oh Ancient of Days?

Doth the freedom to act show so rueful?

I am the same for the freedom of man doth spurn to me…

Yet that freedom to act was then given to man by thee.

What an infuriating sight,

That hypocrites still cry…

And by to cry, they seem averse to lie,

As if the world was never theirs.

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

III - Why, I Can Smile…

A vaunted little thing,

With lyrics not to sing,

Of heart and of the mind,

No reason there to find.

Thy roses’ red disguise,

A fleur meant for the eyes,

Thy lips are saccharine,

Which leaves a golden wine.

I know that thou wilt smile,

To all the words of style,

I slave to poem and prose,

For thee to grasp my rose.

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

IV -  A Bleeding Heart

Please dost not cry any longer…

Thou wilt maketh quite a mess!

Thy tears of life, staining free,

 Thy bloodstained eyes but not truly.

I see past them, the seeping lie!

I seethe to see thou spyst thy eye.

Searching for another thing to say,

And make a medal for this time,

Another silver, more of bronze,

No one gives gold to declaimers!

None pay homage to the crier…

And thou dost cry far too much.

Another beat doth kill sincere…

Valves full of blood, and full faux fear,

Yet foes to thee, thou wisheth not for…

At least in which thy mind’s wish or—

The thing thou claimst to bleed so much!

That only matching, thy soft caress?

Yet thou dost not care for the soft,

Nor for that of the moderate bunch.

Preferest thou the temperament,

Of the hot and dry for humors;

For tis not of sanguine in thee,

But of doomsay and xanthous bile!

Stop crying must I then demand?

Thy mess is what I cannot stand!

And when thy blood is bled all out…

Please dost me well and stayeth dead.

Thy life to me is wasteful mulch,

Thy words are useful in the red,

Where blood flows free from torture,

Just as thy words dost torture me,

And bilge the muck and poison wells,

What didst I do to know thy hells?

Such punishment is much too cruel!

Yet I am the cruellest of maidens…

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

V - My Rose; the Dagger

This rose

Is but

A dag-

-Ger and

It kills.

I’ll score the skies of even with this rose

And rend the very heavens with the thorn

I’ll make decor of words so cheap and those

That with a bleeding heart do naught but scorn

I’ll stab,

I’ll maim,

In fash-

-Ion cruel

As per.

And break,

Disgrace,

Or shatt-

-Er this

Damn mask.

As per

Dæmon-

-Ic proof

And this

Red rose.

Oh what

Red rose

So beau-

-Tiful

And grim.

Stab deep

And twist

The blade

As much

As…

I

I Want. I Need. I Wish. I Must. I Yearn.

This can be easy. I vow to make it curt.

So die. Close thine eyes. Die and burn.

This can be hard. To struggle is to hurt.

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

VI -  A Question, Macroprosopus

Shall we thank thee? Macroprosopus,

For the illusion of this damned life?

As if an incandesence will stymie the mind,

And as if a goal in Fata Morgana can sate.

To expect we would run ‘round and ‘cross,

Dost thou think so little of our fate?

Art thou with us? Macroprosopus,

That thou hear’st thy curtain call?

The stage’s been alight for a century now,

Dost thou think thou canst escape the play?

We expect thee to know and act the part,

Upon this thou’st hath no say!

But thou wert the playwright? Macroprosopus,

We wert thy living puppets?

A tragedy with actors who knew the rules,

Then who learned the loopholes besides.

Thy power is not thine own,

The Sephirot has been ours for a century now.

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

VII -  Visage of Beasts

Beware the likes of beasts.

Tis much a difference,

‘Tween a beast and the man.

The beast doth not restrain.

The beast doth not have shame.

The beast doth only do.

The man canst hold back will.

The man canst stay his feel.

The man canst choose to act.

But now’s an age of beasts-

-For now’s an age of men.

The beast, the men, the age.

For now’s an age of men,

And now’s an age of beasts.

The age, of beast, of man.

Does it sneer with desire?

Does it conquer all there?

Does it fear still the fire?

The visage of the beast,

The mask of the human,

For now’s an age of men.

But now’s an age of beasts,

The mask of the human,

The visage of the beast.

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

VIII -  Stars Upon Pandæmonium

Screaming wind and black bile skies,

The place Pandæmonium.

Dæmons all, Dæmons’ palace,

The delight of underworlds.

Demifiends and liches look-

-What a romance to their eyes,

Why dost stars shine down on us?

Why doth light hath need of dark?

The skies of the earth, of He,

Heaven’s king, his angels high,

Why dost they let down the stars,

That the son of man exalt?

What a melancholic sight;

Why, the Lucifen could cry:

Finally the stars are ours,

Twilight once out of all reach!

Yes the stars of tyranny,

Casted down by knowing men,

Have no dazzle difference-

-In the eyes of crimson souls.

So they welcomed the surprise,

And the Pandæmonic black,

As the stigmata doth gleam,

Welcomes all the has-been light.

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

IX -  The Rose Shall Wilt in Time

All things must pass, the rose shall wilt in time.

A white rose, a blue one, a red, or a black;

What more can be done than to give love,

And shower it, watch it, then hold it in death?

My rose… Requires a certain kind of attention.

I strive to give it such, every day of my life.

And, oh, he is so pretty and so dashing,

But as he goes— so too will I; we wilt as one…

And with us all our sins will follow too…

And with our sins: the grimmest bloody tale.

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

X -  Sonnet for 

Inside the thicket of facade, fleurette.

So little, blanche, and meek yet far disturbed;

That all the stars, the beasts, the gods, perturbed:

“An errant weed, outgrown, so must be set!”

In running, to the bone; her edict black:

That stars upon her shone with malice true,

But as she ran her knowledge only grew…

As such a rose bloomed up to cut the slack.

A rose was he, and with her they then made

All her revenge; so bloody and so free.

The madness, power, taking all they see,

So as a pair did they make foe to most.

Their daggers, roses, poems, and proses bade

A bloody tale that leaves a bloody ghost.

～～～～～～～～～～【ℛ】～～～～～～～～～～

Between the two, which one do you fancy more?

- Rose Blanc