This evening I received my future. I was given explicit instructions: no one
but myself could touch it, tho others could smell; I was to keep it well
nourished, talk to it, keep it happy, and keep a day-by-day account of all
My future is as that of a Rose.
It is soft, delicate, beautiful.
But it contains thorns.
Shall I remain on the tenderness
of the petals or take my
chances on the stem?
Just as the petals are upward
and the thorns downward,
so are Heaven and hell.
I shall have many decisions
to make in my future,
and time is flying by.
My future is in full bloom. These are the happy years. The carefree times when love
surrounds me and I am serene. I am well aware of the fact that soon I will become old
and gray, the lovely locks of my hair will change colour and fall out. Yes, just as a rose,
the time is nearing in which my petals of youth will be no more. This saddens my heart.
Yet, what is life?
To be born, to sprout up,
to grow, to be beautiful
to darken with age,
I am a rose.
God is my sunshine,
satan lives in my thorns.
Those around me complete
I shall live.
I shall die.
I shall live again.
I look back on my days of beauty and youth with a feeling of sadness and lonliness.
Was that person really me? All lovely, fresh and dew-kissed? For today I find myself
bloomed out too far for beauty, and gray around the edges. Oh, if only I had enjoyed
my youth with gaiety and laughter. But no, I have aged far too fast. I spent my younger
days worrying about what the future held in store for me. I shall now enjoy what is left
of me before I completely fade away...
Oh, tender rose.
How thou art beautiful.
Thy petals show the
serenity of confidence.
If only I could share
thy beauty and serenity.
Yet, inner beauty is serenity,
and we all must strive
for this beauty.
Oh God, that I may achieve
Yes, I shall live the life of