Rose Blood

Morbid crimson rose
So picturesque and right
Piercing subtle qualities
Of this moon soaked starry night

Close my eyes and try to sleep
Dreams aren't what they used to be
Nightmare images on tear filled eyes
That can't find you and me

Dear Reader, have you wondered?
How roses get so red
They pull the passion from your veins
Living amongst the dead

Soaked into the petals
As it eats away at you
You find your shred of starry night
Shine and sparkle white and blue

Crashing words and screaming rhymes
Poems aren't what they used to be
Twisted view like broken mirrors
Find the beauty in insanity

The star falls on the flower
A perfect drop of rain
Leaves blood trail on the petal
As if this rose feels no pain

The sky turns bitter quickly
The moon is no longer there
The rose and all its majesty
Dropped petals through the air

The blood and starry light
Let it fly across the sky
As the bittersweet blue moonlight
Dims away and dies

The rose no longer crimson
The passion no longer there
The world is wrapped if frost
Do you think the cold cares?

Piercing thorns on wilting rose
Not what it used to be
Break me in so many ways
Orchestrated catastrophe

"...when I die, I'll return to dust, glitter, rain.... I want to be buried right here under this tree. Its roots will reach into the soft mess of my body and suck me dry. I'll be reformed as apple blossom. I'll drift down in the spring like confetti and cling to my family's shoes.... In the summer they'll eat me. Adam will climb over the fence to steal me, maddened by my scent, my roundness, the shine and health of me. He'll get his mum to cook me up in a crumble or a strudel and then he'll gorge on me."
- Before I Die- Jenny Downham