Red

Like blood

Murder

And loss

Red

Like lustful lips

That enchants you

Into a wrongful dream

Red

Like a sun

That is dying

Slowly slipping away

Thorns

That reach out

Trying to touch you

Trying to get you

Thorns

That are sharps

Like knives

Life death

Thorns

That prick you

And hurt you

And make you cry

It is a flower

So innocent

Yet a danger

A beauty

And a hideous site

A small rose

Gives birth

To a new meaning

Of hate