A Rose's Grief

From every sharp thorn with elegant red petals on top
Comes every drip of blood and every last heartbroken teardrop
And a pierced and stabbed heart with a tiny man-made blood stain
That forever and always will remain
From the blurred glimpse of the tear
that is slowly falling as pain
Forms a great big puddle of water and emotions
That adds on to the devil's desirable gain
From God's innocent and delicate rose
Comes the devil's painful and powerful thorn
Just like a beautiful summer's branch raises its baby leaves
Just for them to die in the winter's haze
Or like the bright flaming sun comes out behind a cloud
Just for a shadow to be made

From the bitter and scarred heart

Pain was caused, and hope had fell

And the rose satisfied the fires of hell

As the rose shattered the heart of glass

The rose’s red resembled the bright and luminous fire

And burnt everything that had people inspired

And left all hope on a tight wire

But from every thorn's dark and fatal cruelty
Comes the rose's red, alluring, and harmless beauty
Just like a meaningful and forgiving prayer is told
To fade out a venial or mortal sin
Or like at every end something new has to begin
From the youthful start of the burgundy petals
To the dark crimson color of mourning love

From the heartbroken shear of unbearable misery

Came God’s unbearable shedding tear

That dripped down to the ground as love

Like falling rain

And gave strength to the rose’s love

An even greater length

Without light there is no darkness

And the rose is now nothing but blameless

And from every prickly thorn comes a new leaf

All from the rose’s grief