Roses are black.

July 8, 2016

I bought her a black rose at a renessance fair.

I gave it to her but she left it there.

Her forced hateful words had cut like a knife, peirced my heart and robbed me of life.

I wandered in endless misery, heart in a cage bound by thorns.

Darkness was all that I could see and a feeling like I had been torn.

Now vengence I seek and love I desire.

All I see is red like a fire.

I hide in the shadows, not to be seen.

But I am the King and she is my Queen.

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