Roses are my poison
they snare me, they bribe
their perfect blood red petals
their thorns as sharp as tines.
Like poison they imprison me
with beauty and compassion
their smell like sweet perfume
their delicacy and form.
Like chains and ropes they capture me
a promise never kept
their beauty and their danger
the tears that I have wept.
A sign of affection or a sign of death
a kiss, a death by love's cold breath
their mystery and secrecy
their voice of certain doom.
Roses are my poison
without mercy they do snare
my heart and my affection
of this they demand I share.
A secret love, a hidden fear.
A poison of the roses.