The darkness of your petals,
The sweetness of your scent,
The beauty that dwells inside you,
All your life well spent.
The morning dew on your leaves,
You sparkle in the sun,
So many secrets deep within your roots,
I suppose I’ve only just begun.
You hold many stories,
You have many thorns on your stem,
The secrets you keep may never be told,
You never let anyone know especially, them.
Only few people understand,
We are the ones, who feel your pain,
For when your life is done,
We can feel how you’ve been slain.
Your darkness is beautiful,
You are like me, I suppose,
Your inner beauty is what I see,
The beauty of a black rose.
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