An Imitation

Dead roses on my window sill,

Scarlet in the greyish glow.

An example of beauty, still -

So elegant in death they fill

Me with dread because I know

Dead roses bode nothing but ill.

Depriving me of my free will,

I want to leave, but can't go

On like this. I want to kill.

Him, them, without a frill,

No fancy flair, I am not low

Like him. I fight an uphill

Battle. War. Going on until

My tears, like a river, flow.

My destiny, I shall fulfill.

Dead roses on my window sill

Scarlet, full of nought but woe.

Your words did cause my screams so shrill

And my blood they did also spill.