The deep red rose,
Glistening by fresh rainwater and tears.
Droplets streaking, blackening down its petals,
The blackness hiding the beauty of the rose
It’s beauty- blackened by the sorrow from above.
Holding on to her cloak-
A cold, dark, dreary cloak,
Suffocating the very life of her.
Her face-like the rose
Covered in her blackened tears,
Tear by tear, giving off the hue of life.
The Rose- unopened,
It’s thorns holding her blood- unforgiving.
The Rain,
Stopped by the parting of the clouds,
Unlike the red sea- there is no good outcome.
Though the rain stopped,
The drops continue to fall.
Difference of drops, the rain and the tears,
Though as one, they fell.
Now, as alone as the girl, the tears fall,
Caressing the rose with a life of sorrow.
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