Featured Writer: Pasithea Anima Libera

When Roses Bleed Thorns


When roses bleed thorns-

it’s time to prune them.

Waiting for seasons to change-

is like waiting for silence to resolve-

conflicts- a game of pride and rank.


When roses bleed thorns-

thistles outgrow the rosebuds;

until color is lost to chaos-

like taste waning to cost.

So don’t lose faith to controversy.


When roses bleed thorns-

barks dry out of life and pleasantry-

like a song that’s been forgotten-

to words like aphids plaguing-

roses with disease and decay.


When roses bleed thorns-

watering their roots won’t stop-

the sap from staining your hands.

You can wipe your hands clean-

but they will still smell blood.


When roses bleed thorns-

don’t just push away the thorns-

or leaves hinging on them-

for your roses will just grow deformed-

so cut off that gangrenous bark!


When roses bleed thorns-

treat each branch like-

a finger that needs grooming-

through work and nutrition-

Not all your fingers are the same.


When roses bleed thorns-

they lose their essence forever-

to protectors defecting –

to steal their blossoms.


When roses bleed thorns-

the truth is lost to being right-

kindness is slayed in the name of pride-

like a hero turned in as a traitor!


When roses bleed thorns-

feuds permeate the soil-

reaching the roots killing-

harmony and dissolving-

what was once a family.


When roses bleed thorns-

remember he who waters-

the rose must water the thorn-

for every rose tree is a family-

bearing a rose and thorn-

on each branch and bark.


When roses bleed thorns-

take time to smell the roses-

but mind you thorns will remain.

So be like a rose not a thorn-

and open up yourself to beauty-

and Love to receive the truth-

about people, life, and family.


© Pasithea Anima Libera

Author’s Notes: This is utilizes an extended metaphor poem of a rose bleeding thorns for family and feuds with a hauntingly repeated first liner for every stanza.

A family is a rose tree that bears both roses and thorns so open yourself like a rose to receive beauty and don’t use words like thorns to bleed roses.

I can’t speak for this poem’s value and work for it was inspired from my father’s wisdom. He was a great man who saw depth in the simplest of things. He believed nature is the best teacher and it was made for us to thrive in, with and learn from lifelong lessons.

797bigAbout the Author

Pasithea is a Lebanese- Filipino Writer, who spent most of her life traveling and working as an international legal consultant. She prefers to pen her impressions laced with symbolism and a relativist’s philosophy. Her topics are mostly about arts mainly portraits and historical events, mythology, the philosophy of life, forces of nature, metaphysics, morality, and personal memories. She has experimented with many forms like blank verse, shadow sonnets, shadow acrostics, ekphrastic poems, etc.

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