The once red, now dead, rose

In a circle

Around the brown bed of the newly wed.

In a haunted house at the end of the street.

The once red, now dead, rose told,

Of woe.

It sat on the still

Eroding away.

As was she,

Tucked away under her cold blanket

Far from home.

 

The once red, now dead, rose

Was her last.

Alas

She never saw her last.

And the once red, now dead, rose

Was never acquainted.

Doomed

To rot on the brown bed of the newly wed.

 

But woe will not tread far

For in death

There can be only peace.

For once

She rose,

The once red, now dead, rose

Will have purpose.

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