The Mirror

Credit: EvilNuns, deviantart.com Credit: EvilNuns, deviantart.com

You Handed Me a Rose

You handed me your love, a rose
And placed it in my outstretched hand
In your loving eyes, your love, it show’d
As you, your love, on me bestow’d
And I thought it oh so grand
But I knew not what it would demand
For I closed my hand to hold it so
And as I did the thorns drove in
They pierced my tender flesh straight through
And a crimson red began to show
The thorns their price in blood withdrew
I tried, but my closed fist stay’d fast
Upon those thorns it was impaled
And so the piercing thorns prevail’d
My blood seeped past the jagged thorns
As did my anguish past your scorn
How long was this to last?
My blood, so slowly, graced my sleeve
As I, impaled, had no reprieve
For my white shirt would not have…

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