The Rose..

She stares at this rose,
So tenderly held in her hands
It's unearlthy beauty so easily at stake
How painfully she understands

Her fingers trail over the edges
Unmasking its true being
So soft and meak, oh so fragil
How easily breakable it does seem

But just like her
It has gone through so much
Grown so far, to get where it is now
Yet fate gives it away; with a mere hush

Life places in your way
Such an impassable obsitacle
How quickly, beauty is taken away
A tragedy occurs, something terribly horrible

As her hand sqeezes the flower
A mere symbol of lost hope
Blood trickles from the skin
Her soul, dies alongside the rose