The tears of their crime drop down, crimson blood stains the white innocence of the Rosebuds,
just opening their eyes
to see a violent red dawn.
The Roses must change color,
they must be a reminder of the sin
those bloodied corpses committed.
The Roses feel guilt and shame.
They try to maintain their purity,
but they cannot.
They stay a marked breed,
bearing the punishment
for a crime not done by them.
All who see them whisper
about the hearts who beat no more.
The Roses bear the badge of silence
those two hearts left behind.
The naive laughter
of the pure white Roses
reminds them of the stains
they cannot remove.
They feel guilty of the crime,
and confess nasty thoughts
they did not think.
When the grey winter touches them,
the Roses sacrifice themselves
as an offering
for the forgiveness of dead men,
who don't deserve to be forgiven.