The red rose by day,
that turns hearts to clouds,
tells a different story to us and owls!
for after the day,
when all is dark,
the rose becomes a different being.
the dark petals,
so soft and cold,
yet still painful to behold.
the red has gone,
faded to black,
so Innocent till you turn your back.
that one flower,
that is to show love,
strange that its the colour of blood,
so the rose my friend,
is not for love!
its for us immortals who so crave blood!
