Black Rose Poem by Peter Vector

Charcoal coloured petals lightly brush my hand.
Chrome silver stem cuts into my skin.
How could you the fairest maiden in the land,
Lust for my evil and sin?

You softly touched me as you passed by,
But in my eyes a fire blazed.
When you left I felt like I wanted to die.
The sickness I felt was just a sickening malaise.

My iron-bound hand yearn for your touch,
The only woman I will love so much.

The shut and lock the door, in darkness,
But they know not the way's of their carelessness.

I stole the key,
And now I am free.

I am only to be chained,
To your body (murder by your own hand) bloodstained.

Why does the rope fit so tightly around my throat?
I tried to tell them you did this not me.
I showed them your last love note,
But still they were too blind to see.

So with me, an innocent man to blame,
I am (was) hung in shame,
But in my hand all that time was that black rose,
That had been on your bedside.

So in that moment to life I said, 'Good-bye.'
And to death I embraced with a warm, 'Hello.'
Only to start to break down and cry,
For who should be in front of me, then my lady with her black rose...