The Rose of life

How can life beat when it has no heart? When war, love, anger, and illness tare it apart How can life continue when hate, jealousy, and sin corrupts those who once had a caring heart? Love too can be a dagger that pierces the sole to some its a lightless shadow that forces people to walk blindly through the ever lasting thorn of life To others even in the darkest of shadow o light can be found those few...those lucky few doeth walk in the light those few do sayeth life is like a rose It grows and bares leaves and then soon buds to soon spread its soft petals and scent the air about it But yet again no rose cometh with no thorn to pick those who carry it but even those pricks can be forgotten because of the ever forgiving love of the frail and yet soft petals of the bud But to me... I can see the truths in both truths that life comes as a rose to only bloom then gradually wilt and only the sharp thorn's are left but looking back on the dead corps you can remember every detail from its now gone youth then feel a mix of emotions but no matter what its life is through