Roses in her heart: A poem 

She glows in sepia shadows 

On sunbeams, she flows 

Her flowerbed is divinity in rows 

Her sweetness is a door to inebriating meadows 

I can see her fly where spirit never dies 

The verdant travelogue of butterflies 

She journeyfellows from floor to skies 

Heaven answers to her whats, whens and whys 

The roses in her heart; when I touch them, I bleed 

To view them wistfully is my honourable deed 

She brings madness to my soul; in its cocoon, I’m whole 

There seems redemption in my sufferings’ whorl 

Published by montecyril

Hi, I am Monte Cyril Rodrigues and live in Melbourne, Australia. I am a retired journalist. I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia. I've had voices and visions all my life. I think it is a spiritual experience, my doctors think otherwise. I am a deeply spiritual person and keep having experiences with otherworldly realms.

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