“A rose of thorns,
So beautiful to behold,
You beckon me near,
Yet, draw blood with your hold.
A rose of thorns,
Your beauty is a guise,
I reach out to touch,
And meet with a surprise.
A rose of thorns,
Each petal a memory, each thorn a scar,
Your beauty, a magnet, drew me close,
Yet your touch left wounds, deep and raw.
In your presence, I found both solace and pain,
A paradox of love, I struggled to explain,
Each prick of your thorns, a reminder of us,
In a garden of memories, lost in the fuss.
I entrust you to another’s care,
Hoping you’ll flourish there,
Even if it’s not with me,
Your happiness is all I hope for thee.”
