Rose Vine & it's Thorns

While these flakes of purity fall,
Blood it seems, stains it's whiteness.
Laying dead but very much alive,
The redness curls up within it's gladness

Sharpen thorns awaken,
Next to the comfort of envy.
While sunlight passes clearly,
Casting a darkness so dearly.

Being gentle as well as harsh,
This one thing bleeding into a canvas.
You can see it's proudness,
As it lays so restless.

The effect calms you sweetly,
Watching it never move.
You open your eyes slowly,
Which pleases your soul to soothe.

Completed deeply,
Holding on tightly.

(Dedicates to Lex)