Take

Many roses 

in a bed

greener marks 

and throne is wed

to thorns and brambles

beasts and beauty

garden spoken

taken duty

A ray of shine

colour pallet

to each and every

petal shall it

Glisten gleam 

and call to you

don't pluck a rose

or help its hue

It never asked

and nor shall I

but will you hold me

just to die?