Cuckoo

I hated being that black Delilah rose , lonely in it's pride . Never once did a soul yearn for my warmth, the way I wished hers never left . When I had those lush colors in my eyes , I set fire to those petals , her thorns bled my wounds . My hands never deserved to play puppet with her heart strings , she ran tangled , yet so sure she would beat the denial . She was my cuckoo bird , a beauty winged tune reminder of my crazy I concealed with lust .