A Demon's Rose

The flower resents the bee,
For it cannot fly.
The bee resents the flower,
For it rests in the garden.
And so love is not made,
And the valley turns to a desert.
Every glittering grain of sand
Records its history.

I see your suffering,
And I condemn you.
You mourn your pride only,
Your story unraveling.
I will fold the pages of your book
Into a single grain of sand.
Until you water a demon’s rose,
The Garden of Eden will not bloom.
Your story will fertilize it’s soil -
It will not be lost.
I will thread you in my petals,
And redeem you.
Your memory is a seed
It is trapped in the humility of the earth.
I will bury you,
And raise you up.
And you will love again.