

ZechThe moon shines brightly into the night, It's Goddess-like beauty smiling at me. I'm standing in the cemetery, Holding a nurtured rose. Upon my love's grave, Lies two roses. Black, from his father, White, from out mentor. I kiss my rose softly, And set it on his grave. The three colors will soon wash away. White, Black, and Violet.Zech
Previous PageNext Page