A Rose of Black and Blue

Within my hand there is a rose,
A rose of black and blue,
And within that rose there is a world
One familiar to me and you.

The world within that rose is cold
Grown bitter throughout time,
Cruel throughout its core,
Only few remain sublime.

The petals are of goodness,
And the thorns of human sin,
And since the latter is so common,
The petals are shriveled thin.

This rose sees rain so often,
In its cold and dreary days,
And sees the sun so seldom
Left black without the golden rays.

So this rose will wither and die,
With the fate of humankind,
Unless our paths begin to change
And then salvation we will find.

But if the road most trodden
Turns out to be the wrong,
And man does not change his ways,
Our race may not last long.

For it is in union that we must learn to live,
For it is together that we must stop the hate,
Fight for the world that used to be,
And restore the world to a peaceful state.

Within my hand there is a rose,
A rose of black and blue,
Together we can change the world,
Together, me and you.

*written in spring of '01... for the record, this was probably the first decent poetry i wrote.