Sins And Roses Poem by Martin Greyford

You gave me roses with trembling hands,
While I carried storms I couldn't understand.
You loved me gently, without condition,
But I answered with silence and poor decisions.
Every rose you placed upon my soul
Bloomed for a moment, then lost control.
My sins became the winter frost,
And one by one, your petals were lost.

I watched your smile fade into tears,
As guilt echoed louder than all my fears.
You begged for love; I gave you scars.
You reached for heaven—I handed you stars
That burned too quickly and fell apart.
Now the garden remembers what we forgot.
The roses still bloom, but they bloom alone.

Their fragrance carries your name,
While my heart remains a house of shame.
If tears could wash away every sin,
I'd flood the earth and begin again.
I'd gather every broken rose,
Kiss every thorn that made you bleed,
And pray that love would forgive
What my hands could never mend.
But some apologies arrive too late.

Some flowers never bloom twice.
And some hearts keep loving
Even after they've been broken.
So I stand where you left me—
Holding a dying rose,
With blood on my fingers
And your name on my lips,
Learning that the deepest sins
Are not the ones that break God's heart...
They're the ones that break
The heart that loved you most.