Rose

I worship her body

like a saint to be put to death

Never again will I have a chance like this"

I acclaim to myself,I know only how much time she has,

I only know of her,

of how the roses sprout from her hips

of rich poison stained to her lips

of the curve in her lies

each and every dip

Of how she smiles when she sips

I beg her to reason

to see a newer side.

She bursts out laughing

And tells me that she'd skin me for my hide

Fists in curls, I plead once more

She frowns and kisses me bitterly

Rich poison on her lips.

Roses sprouting from her hips.

Curves in her lies.

Smiling as she sips.

Bidding me, Adieu,she's taken through the door.