Twelve Red Roses Poem by Hyperion Cartel

Twelve red roses for the earth
Welcome the third blind-eyed birth
And pity ‘cause it isn’t worth
The cellophane
Breathe thorned stems into the air
Snared on that old vacant stare
Screams come from the house prayer
Nobody can hear
Snatch them from the bedside vase
And offer them to the dying stars
Bloodlust to the below cars
Their engines stall
God, they are so easily led!
It seems that everyone has said
That their favourite colour is red
It’s back in style