Jess Corbin Fallen Rose the one trilogy www.fallenrosetheone.com www.fallenrosetheone.co.uk

imagine all of the pages on this site re the WRITTEN WORK the
POETRY, PROSE, SONG LYRICS.. to know IT only scratches the surface of the FINISHED EPIC.. and that FINALE is coming to deliver FINALLY ..

AS you FANS ALREADY KNOW. it WILL BE.. an EPIC MASTERPIECE...

WHAT CAN WE CALL THIS IF WE CANNOT CALL THIS LOVE

Do we need an explanation ?

DECEMBER 2027 will give you all the answers..

Its because of you, that I do the things I do..

HER.

I didn’t hate HIM. Yes, I wanted to hurt HIM. To make HIM, feel the pain he had brought back into my life, of the realization of all that was ME as I was. How could he, say that I, would be the one, whose name would be on his lips, with HIS dying breath. How stupid is that?!

Yet the more I rage at HIM, the more I understand WHY! He exposes my whole sense of being who I am, what I became. All the crap, over the years in my life. He calls it my circle? I try and convince others as much as myself, that its been about the journey NOT the instant fame or fortune.

So much pain, so much sadness, moments when I wanted to throw everything away and walk away from it all, to abandon who I was, who I ONCE WAS. Hating him for saying how, when he had first met me he had fallen in love with my voice, my warmth, my charismatic personality, a star in the making?

Now look at me. Older. Wiser? If I am, then the crap still filters through, to mar my perceptions, to be suspicious, angry, paranoid. All that I am he sees, he puts into words and how I feel, the storm growing. The rage, the fury the desire to seize him and lock him in it with me, to MAKE HIM know I KNOW that I am lost. So much the sense of feeling misunderstood.

A shadow of my former self? Still in denial? Raging, hating, cursing at all he, HIM is. My reflection. Looking back at me, laughing? I would be happy if he were, but he is not. Sorry for me? I would hate him if he were, but he, is not.

Loving me. Despite all that is between us and he still loves me? It consumes me, eats at me, invades my sanity. I can’t escape the unfolding truth. With HIS dying breath, my love in HIS heart, my name on HIS lips. Knowing I, despite all my fury, my rage, do not have the power to ever change that?! Why do I feel the tears forming?

The thought of being so powerless or? At losing HIM?

No matter what you say or do.. you’ll NEVER stop me LOVING YOU     the one

HIM.

The shock realization that the unfolding truth was so stark. I could not escape the facts. My life was, would be dramatically shortened. In simple terms, time was running out. SO, poise the question. Is it natural to suggest such madness? Insensitive?

‘Who would be the one, whose name would be on your lips, with your last breath. Crazy. I mean, could there be such a person? Maybe to some the woman you’re married to for over 40 years or your mother. .Your?

But inside, deep down, I knew. Stirred my senses, the memories of HER. THE ONE girl who over the years had remained in my heart, in my thoughts, on my breath. HER. Who I had watched from the shadows, in HER growing circle. Never seeming to get out of that loop. The dream. The desire. The journey. The crap that follows in its wake from those who steer her back into HER circle.

Using HER, abandoning HER to the tears, the failure of someone, who from the first time I had met HER, had fallen under HER spell, the moment I heard HER sing. Like some Siren. Pulling me in. Locking me in and my knowing, despite all that happened in my life, one thing would remain forever constant, unchanging. My love for HER, HER voice.

That moment when I would confess. It would be HER, who would be on my lips, with my dying breath. Links to HER web, so that fans could see WHY. Could understand my love, my respect, my admiration for the girl, HER, who had been so determined, so resilient, so full of life. Hard working and despite all that happened was still trying?

Yet what did she, HER do? Trash me publicly on Facebook. Cruel, mean, insensitive. NEVER saying sorry for what she had done, laughing at my simplistic honesty for admitting that she, HER, would be the one, whose name would be on my lips with my dying breath?

She brought it, wrapped me in it. Maybe I had prodded at the real HER, brought it to the fore and had HER realize I had exposed the truth to show the REALITY of all she had become. Mean, cruel, aggressive, paranoid? In HER circle going nowhere!

A loser? Why did I feel the same rage? The same fury? The desire to make HER pay for what she had done, said? To take the storm she had created, to turn all that negative energy back in on HER.

I didn’t know that she, HER would get inside me, rip me apart and throw me to the winds. It was not my heart she was after, she, HER, already had that.

DECEMBER 2027