rose_hunter
About Me
Rose
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm.
That flys in the night.
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
By William Blake
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm.
That flys in the night.
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
By William Blake