In hand
the black rose
Roses in hand.
She holds the black rose
in the hand,
the lady pleases you
She's the one
your gaze stops,
Many thoughts arise
at the sight of her,
for who is she?
She has the rose
in her hand,
the lady is standing
on black sand,
as if from another land,
on the edge
of a crumbled rock wall.
Your gaze lingers on
her,
What do you think
of when you see her?
A thought pierces you.
Who is she?
