A bush of black flowers, dark and somber hue
Stands tall and proud, a solemn sight to see
Its petals soft and velvety, yet imbued
With a sense of mystery, and a hint of glee
For though these flowers seem to bring despair
They hold a hidden beauty, deep within
Their dark and twisted vines, so very rare
Are a testament to life, and not to sin
For death and life are intertwined, you see
Like yin and yang, they balance and they blend
The bush of black flowers, a symbol to be
Of the cycle of life, that never ends
So let us stand in awe, and take in the view
Of the bush of black flowers, so rich in hues