The light born in dark,
Like star in a way,
Can't stop I that spark
From fading away.
The rose grown in pain,
Like beauty in dirt,
With thorns as a chain
Keeps wearing that shirt.
As reaching her soul
Blood flows through the palm,
It is someone's role
In saving that charm.
With love in my heart,
Will clear the dark,
Preserving that art,
Rekindling that spark.
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A beautiful work of art elegantly embellished with poetic rhyme and rhythm. Thanks for sharing and do remain enriched.