Hello all! I’ve returned with yet another poem from my poetry class, in Villanelle form this time!

It’s been a busy week, so I couldn’t quite whip up a short story like I wanted to… but, hopefully insparation will strike in the next few days. Until then, enjoy this poem from Anala’s POV, featuring her life then and now.

To a Dying Rose – Anala’s POV 

“Sit pretty, be good. My darling, smile.” 

To the rose in a vase burning red. 

“You perfect darling. You perfect child.” 

I pluck and I prod me into style, 

I bury my doubts, resaying instead 

“Sit pretty, be good. My darling, smile. 

I sing and I dance, and all the while 

parts of me burn away. Torn to shreds. 

“You perfect darling. You perfect child.” 

No matter the night, no matter the trial 

my petals stay open, undying, widespread. 

“Sit pretty, be good. My darling, smile.” 

I’ll be the definition of versatile 

my eyes on the horizon, my dark secrets shed 

“You perfect darling, You perfect child.” 

Because I am the rose, always in style. 

This is the road I will walk till I’m dead. 

“Sit pretty, be good. My darling, smile.” 

“You perfect darling. You perfect child.”