Blood Red Rose
By, Raziel Libra Kane

Nothing dies as beautifully as a rose

I have seen many things die in my time and not any of them have been beautiful

Watching a rose wilt and die is like watching a sunset and rise

Its beauty is best when it is alive
But it is just as nice when it wilts and dies

The petals spread apart
Then they start to wilt
They get darker and dryer with each days passing like spilt blood on the floor

Nothing dies as beautifully as a blood red rose

A blood red rose in the dead of winter dies as beautifully as I

For my heart and my soul are just like a blood red rose
They are wilting and dieing

For an unloved rose can never grow and never bloom
All it can do is wilt and die

Die and fly away

Nothing dies as beautifully as a blood red rose

Nothing dies as poetically as a blood red rose