I was favored with the gift of roses,
The classic incarnation of love and affection.
Red roses, the hue of passion,
That were blossoming to undeniable perfection.
I laid them in an altar of glass and water,
As a sacred offering to the God of my heart.
Yet in an instant, the altar was desecrated.
Glass shattered, water spilled and petals fell.
There was naught but shards of glass carving through the silk of flowery skin.
The blood of roses filled the air with a sweet and sickly smell.
I kneel on the floor and pick up the pieces
Of the shattered dream that did not last.
My crimson roses lay scattered amongst
The fallen petals and broken glass.