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darkthornflower's Journal

Created on 2004-05-05 14:23:07 (#3055489), last updated 2006-10-02

71 comments received, 64 comments posted

Basic Info
Name:_bloodrose_
Birthdate:07-04
Bio
The content of this journal is very likely to be homoerotic in nature. If you are not of age, or if it is illegal to view such material in your part of the world, please do not read this journal.

Note: This journal is part of a slash RPG involving the Weiss Kreuz characters. Feel free to comment on posts, but please try and maintain the illusion of reality--in other words, no WK icons, no knowledge of the show, stuff like that. Thanks. :-)

[info]flowerkittens
Aya [info]darkthornflower
Yohji [info]sevenspeed
Omi [info]hacker_cat
Ken [info]clawboy

Dark Thorn Flower
Gay and mad are the ones who wear
The twined red rose with a raffish air;
Glad are the ones who may twist a wreath
Of roadside clover or gypsy heath;
Proud the brow that may boast the laurel
Wreath of silver or red carved coral;
But they are doomed who are born to wear
The dark thorn flower in their hair;
They are cursed who must always mourn
Scars that betray the dark harsh thorn.

The touch of clover is clean and cool
And cool the lillies plucked from a pool;
Sweet the breath of a strand of May
And sweet a ribband of August hay;
Ginger petals are white and smooth;
Fern fronds heal and poppies soothe.
But dark thorn flowers are red as shame
And the barbs are cruel as blades of flame.
Those who smile while a sick heart grieves
Know the scourge of the dark thorn leaves.

One will lift his chin with pride
And callous his aching flesh to hide
The wounds that mark where a faith has died
Crucified by the thorn.
The brave will laugh to hide the pain.
The bitter mock and turn insane
While weaklings die with a festered brain
Stabbed by the jagged thorn.

Theirs is a crown of bleak despair;
Theirs is a sorrow they may not share,
And none may know so none may care
That they bear the dark thorn flower.
Whom may they turn to...whom may they trust?
Why should *they* suffer the rankling thrust?
God, I suppose, knows why they must.
*He made the dark thorn flower.*

by Don Blanding
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