The Rose of Red

This is the rose of red,

which all heroes seek.

To find the beauty in the meek.

The scarlet petals that resist

The brutal winter,

the frozen mist

The sun is here,

but has not kissed

It is here to warm,

To help the rose

forget the storm.

In the fields of life's regret,

Lies the unopened rose of red.

And every frozen petal

Reminds itself

of winter's cold sharp metal,

And the red bud chooses to resettle.

As two hands come to touch,

and try to pry

The red rose's petals outwards,

towards the sky,

The rose's core is now awake,

It tries to forget,

and out of darkness

its memories snake.

Remembering the winter before,

the red rose forgot that there was more.

The red rose is grown,

off the floor After every winter,

comes a Spring

It's time to listen to Heaven ring.

Opened, the rose is still

Beauty resonates from its fill.

Away from darkness,

in true light,

the once crimson red is now a glorious bright.

Rejuvenated,

the rose is filled with might.

In the red rose's new hope,

It alas decides to widen its scope.

Arise you rose of red,

The rose once thought dead.

Forget your lowly past,

You are not alone,

the sunlight is vast.

Take your pain

Save it not for last.

Throw your worries away,

Rose of red,

this is a new day.