Fragility was never truly mine.
The rose I was back then
Was never so much petals, but all thorns
And here I am again;
A shaking stem in storms I can’t define.
It shatters clean like glass:
This thunder overhead from fury borne
Will just as quickly pass
But then my roots, grown deeper, will not move,
Though all the world should quake;
And everything I am grow cold and still
While I am wide awake
And battered by the passing gale of love.
But this is you and I:
Whereas the storms defy the barren thrill
Some roses never die.
Inspired by “Thunder” by Jessie J