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A Wild Rose
There was no doubt about the frailty of her existence; Red, white or black; nothing could hide such delicately poised beauty.
Such delightful offerings, were the sacrifices; a fragrance to stir the heart and a resplendent sight to ease the battered mind.
Where she lived, offered no freedom; thorns borne from her bossom gave no protection; to be coveted by all, yet nurtured by the few.
Fleeting, her moments may have been in Gaia's embrace, but glorious she always will be; for hers was the fate of a wild rose.
© O.O Godwin
Such delightful offerings, were the sacrifices; a fragrance to stir the heart and a resplendent sight to ease the battered mind.
Where she lived, offered no freedom; thorns borne from her bossom gave no protection; to be coveted by all, yet nurtured by the few.
Fleeting, her moments may have been in Gaia's embrace, but glorious she always will be; for hers was the fate of a wild rose.
© O.O Godwin
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