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Roses are red, Violets are blue,
Birds are still chirping and clouds are askew,
The sun is still shining as the flowers renew.

Leaving me breathless reveling the view,
I leisurely watch as though i´m wanted too.

Roses are dry, Violets are tilting,
Shadows gloom over the barren and wilting,
I sit there and watch, My happiness jilting.

What once was so vibrant was now turned to grey,
Slowly but surely withering away.

Roses are dead, As violets are too,
Everything in sight now an ungodly hue,
My once happy life was swallowed by truth.

Wondering why after all this time i´ve succumb,
I silently apologized as my body went numb.
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For The Love of a Rose.
The Gardener Becomes a Slave
of a Thousand Thorns.
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