darkness trips my vision in the morose emotion
seeking shelter in the deep notes of melancholy
with lost hopes and memories
coveting the moments of solace in between
my thoughts wander the dark
I collect shadows in the gloom
with tears wept and feelings known
my sadness peak and wanes
I paint my roses black
a momentary sense of control
in the depths of my soul linger
in the waiting insanity
where I am loved and understood
reality bends and my mind creates art from sorrow
painting my roses black
painting my roses black
Rated for Everyone 
melancholy
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Summary:
the painting I did when my son passed I painted the roses black...
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Everything fading until there are no colours left at all…..this is the truth.
hello dearest Benny that is what happens I’m okay but a part of me has changed thank you for the understanding 💕
Everything changes.
Suffering is natures sculptor…..it’s a process we all go through but few recognise….you have.
🙏
thank you Benny I hope you are having a lovely evening 💕
No place like home. I wonder if the moon is recycling our souls. Sometimes everything looks correct painted in black. My complete & utter condolences. ~hugs~
thank you dearest poet for the love my garden turned cold and dark I gave this painting to my son’s wife I don’t know if I made the right choice but she understood 💕
I feel your loss in your words, and the picture is a good representation of how you feel.
hello beautiful Fia thank you for feeling me 💕
Powerfully penned, Brenda. The words work well with the painting my friend. It does represent how you feel. Appreciate you.
Damian
This is absolutely fantastic, girl. Your painting is incredible too.
I’m holding you in thought, Brenda💕
This is an amazing poem. Your panting is incredible as well.
You paint this scene with vivid color.