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The Rose
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Part V: A SLOW SUICIDE Her petals are frail.
A little withered from her existence in the world.
But all is well...
I am the sunlight that she'll feel.
Her leaves were brown and dry.
A little feeble from the drought of life.
But she'll survive...
I will be the rain falling from the sky.
Her thorns are sharp with doubt;
From every time she's been let down.
But everything is better now...
I will be her hero, I will be her ground.
Her stems are brittle.
A bit broken from the winds of hell.
But all is well...
I will be here through it all...
