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There on the floor lies solemn rose bud.
For many years this soul has been so alone.
The crimson petals are the colors of blood,
It’s is heart on its sleeve and its scars shown.
Is that dew or could those be tears on its leaves?
Shall you forever cry when comes to a goodbye?
Isn’t it only given by one who truly believes?
Are you destined to think that all things must die?
Bloodstained thorns like spears now grace its stem.
This, a single, scarlet flower, broke you open wide.
Now you shall curse every time you see one of them.
How were you to know that this heart had lied?
Oh, rose, a heart has opened up for thee.
But blinded by love, the eyes did not see.