Black rose, sprouted upright and outstanding
But pensive solitude, it was demanding.
However, attention is what it received
Attention is not inherently positive, so be not deceived.
An abyssal cloud of cruelty was forming
In the next of years, for the rose it’ll be storming.
A deteriorating rain will drench the rose
It accepted its dreary fate, with no hope to oppose.
Black rose, now drooped and fading
Behind a mask of contentment, the rose was masquerading.
Petals once of silk, were forced callous
All due to a destructive, malice
Black rose, withered and brittle
Bits of you break off in the breeze, little by little.
Fallen under the weight of your own despair
Broken, bleak, empty, but without a care
A strong wind is your last moment
You have no longer a need for atonement
Black rose, you gave it your best
But now, you may finally rest