A rose, deep, dark and red, left behind like a prisoner of words unsaid, a rose that time forgot, still standing alone in the cold frosty Gothic fog, icy rain and snow, the moon at its fullest, the beautiful storm, the thunder as it roars, the moment the lightning tears the sky apart, the quiet sunset. A rose to say I'm sorry I was late, too immature to understand that time simply will not wait; a rose that was black, now a deep dark red, you gave me life and your heart, so I gave you my my arm. A rose.
