Yes, I love the roses
Even more than myself
Despite I get cursed in - between
The thorns, and bleeding.
I do not dare a comparison
With any celibrity,
Adequately opting a choice
For any insignificant variety.
Yet, I smell
The frowning fragrance of its petals
In all the inches I respire.
May be, forI love the roses.
I wish dear,
Please, don't forget
To put a bud of a Rose
On my pyre
When you bid me a good bye
For my heavenly aboard
A journey in my solitude.
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