Love, like the rose.
Attractive, desirable,
Make's every other flower seem pale in comparison,
Other blooms seem to fade,
Cast into the shade
By the one rose.
A beauty to behold.
You tried to take it for yourself, but found
That every rose has its thorns
Now the crimson blood of lost love's tears
Falls to stain the ground
Like the crimson petals of a wilting rose
Which fall like love's shed tears,
To herald the winter of loneliness,
Which lasts till another love grows
In the light of another year.