Long Live Rosaline Poem by VaGótha Kuroibara

As red as cherry wine.
With satin petals fine.
Uprooted as you were.
Cut terminals—I concur.

What was ordinary
Became as one would call extraordinary.
Vital eloquence unforeseen—
Long Live Rosaline.

Days graudual weeks,
Thus she should be dead.
But wait—what's this! ?
She's just as red!

What was ordinary
Became as one would call extraordinary.
Vital eloquence unforeseen—
Long Live Rosaline.

As she waits on the window sill,
Lonely she is—deprived social fill.
A rose without a bush is likened to a lily.
The water—her pond; the glassed vase—her tranquility.

What was ordinary
Became as one would call extraordinary.
Vital eloquence unforeseen—
Long Live Rosaline.

No one knows when she will take her last light;
But surest of all, she'll rest eternally by night.

What was very ordinary
Became extremely extraordinary!
What was painfully mundane
Became wonderfully insane!

Life and Death—
She was between.
Last light breath—
Long Live Rosaline.