Red Rose

Dear,you are like a rose
pricking me hard.
You are like a rose
which never blossom,
But still I love you

My love, an unconditional saga,
It loves thorns,
It loves rotten leaves,
It loves everything in you.
All your imperfections.

It loves all the twists,
And turns,predestined.
It exist,even if
nothing to hold on,
As unrequited love.

You are like red rose
red like blood,that flows,
within my veins,with passion,
without you,I don’t exist,
in this icy cold wind.

One thought on “Red Rose

  1. She is the red rose and you are the rain that keeps her alive. Everything in your words calls love, tenderness, the necessity that one hears you, that one loves you. That’s how I feel your poem, like a new call.
    Have a good night dear 🙂

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