The Rose

We took a stroll through a forest of trees Tall they stood with sturdy wood yet leaning in the breeze Animals played and shrubs did grow Everything balanced even the talons of the black and daunting crow No path ahead but a trail behind Such virgin eyes never could size the beauty of all the pines Then up ahead a bed of roses lay As we neared she had steered her desires to that Rose her prey I got to my knees and pulled up that Rose Such beauty possessed the smell to my nose But wild thorns covered the stem It pricked my thumb the pain it lent My very first thought nothing much A bead of blood never enough and hardly hurt to touch Continued on our hike persisted Something was strange something did change and the breeze had now resisted Nevertheless forward we trudged Enjoyed the sun the birds they sung surrounded by all we love Then I looked down and saw what'd been made My thumb was black all from that her desires to that Rose her prey I got to my knees and pulled up that Rose Such beauty possessed the smell to my nose But wild thorns covered the stem It pricked my thumb the pain it lent From such innocence nothing expected The cut was neglected now it's infected in hindsight we respect it The sun went down or the clouds had covered Either the two neither we knew but the trail had now been smothered Too much time since the thorn got me The pain increased as I deceased my thumb slowly rotting Rain poured down birds flew away Except that crow who flew so low and snatched that Rose her prey