Locked away in a garden of thorns,
A rose prison, where beauty mourns.
Petals stand as bars, delicate yet strong,
Their fragrance trapped, their song so cold.
***
Each bloom, a captive in this floral cell,
No escape from this fragrant spell.
Their vibrant hues dull, their spirits fade,
Within this prison, where they’re betrayed.
***
Once free to dance with the gentle breeze,
Now confined to a life with no bees.
Their splendor, once admired by all,
Now hidden behind these prickly walls.
***
But in this prison, hope still survives,
A longing for freedom that forever strives.
For deep within each petal’s core,
A fire burns, a yearning so pure.
***
They dream of a meadow, vast and wide,
Where they can sway with nature’s stride.
A place where their fragrance can roam free,
Their beauty admired by all who see.
***
So they tremble and wait for their chance,
To break free from this confining trance.
Patiently biding their time, they grow,
Preparing to leave, to bloom and show.
***
And when the moment finally arrives,
They unleash their beauty, their essence thrives.
No longer confined, their captivity ceased,
They fill the world with a ravishing feast.
***
Released from their prison, they soar,
Their fragrance so potent, forevermore.
No longer confined to those thorny walls,
They dance in sunlight as freedom calls.
***
Remember the rose’s plight,
The beauty kept hidden, out of sight.
Cherish each bloom you behold,
For within them, stories of freedom unfold.
© 2023 Amy Christie
Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Amy Christie
Passionate writer and journalist, striving to create meaningful connections.
Comments (3)
Very good, nice images
This was awesome, my middle name is Rose, so I love anything that has to do with roses haha. You did a really good job with this though!
Great poem!