A rose once as red as the blood in my veins, is now as black as my pains
A rose once as soft as my eyes, now has crumbled
As my mind
Once a rose, now black as my heart lay flaming within my hand
Once a rose, now falls like my tears as ashes of the land
A burning rose is like me now,
Once beautiful, once alive
But now smoldering
Dead, ugly, searing to nothing but ash
Crumbling, tumbling, falling
Piece by piece
Becoming more dead, more non-existent, more distant
Nothing in my view any more,
Nothing in my way,
Except…
A black hole,
That is still stealing,
Still sucking in my oxygen,
Fueling the fire, but in the end it’s just nothing more than…
A Burning Rose