Roses Of The Night

Precious petals that bloom in the heart,

held in their delicate, frail life

like dreams and love stories

told alone after dark,

because there is no one to listen

unto the tales that flower

from touches never known.

 

Still inside they are written,

kept alive within the eyes

just praying someone will see them

and recognize the hidden pains,

for it is a book only opened

in the silent shade that follows sunset.

 

Each page was penned

with a prayer and wish

that was expressed in a diary,

but sealed away in a library

no one is ever allowed to visit.

 

Ever day those words

hang on lips that were blistered

by betrayal and abuse.

 

Yet still the writer inside

clings to the hope

someday to meet the one true love

who can share what is on the lines

expressed as those roses of the night

then see the beauty others miss

so they won’t keep wilting

in the black emptiness.