Perfect Purple Rose
A Perfect Purple rose stands still On the top of the hill.
She is the god’s will
Blossoming like a true princess.
Wearing a white gown and a purple dress.
Shines like a rare pearl in the skies.
The ugly world cannot percieve her beauty even if it tries,
Yet she survived cold seasons, hurricanes
And wild winds and careless reasons of man that walked on earth with hate.
But none could break her perpetual rise
She will grow strong from the heavy dust
And open the eyes of the blind
Stirring the power of love in the dark mind.
She stands still
On the top of the hill
The one and only
Perfect Purple Rose.
By Ernest Badounts
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