"What are you doing here? The beauty you possess astonishes me, for your color is astoundingly beautiful."
Plucking the rose from the wall, I noticed its delicacy and the trinkle of blood dripping down my finger. The thorns pricked me without a second thought. The rose was well protected from what I see. I must encase this wonderous flower. The uniqueness of this rose entranced me as I let my fingers sting from every brush against the thorny stem. Will I ever see a rose as beautiful as you?
"Please don't die. I don't want to lose something as graceful as you. Pluck away those thorns and embrace me. There's no need to keep me away from you, bloody rose. How much I want to hold on to you forever. Please don't leave me. Don't let go of me!"
The petals started falling one by one, falling onto the bloody mess I made. All that was left was the bud that kept the petals in place. A broken mess it was now, and I couldn't save it on time. I couldn't save her on time.
Looking at the wall in front of me bloomed the black roses smiling at the bloody rose on the ground. They were the ones who let her die. I can't let them go on any longer. One by one, I grabbed every rose that smiled and laughed at mine. No matter how many times I tried to yank them from their roots, more and more took their places. At the end, hundreds and thousands of shadowy, black roses engulfed me with their sinister laughter.
I couldn't do anything. I was useless. After all, I let her go.
This was all just a lie.
YOU ARE READING
The Book of The Roses
PoetryJust a few stories I wrote about my true feelings. A new part published every Monday, so stay tuned.
