My Lone Rose

You stand alone. Like the reddest of roses on an open and barren plain, The striking crimson on a bleak and grey backdrop Catches every eye that glances across the hollow atmosphere. Cast out from the bed of dozens, Your thorns cut too deep, Standing as one, It was the loneliness you chose to keep. And you now strike a chord, In every living being, Your beauty is dangerous, But well worth seeing. So cut as deep as you can, I need something to remember you by, A small scar across my heart will be just fine.