Black Rose

A black rose so beautiful and yet so dark,

Thousand meanings it has, everyone leaves a mark.

From death to black magic, a deep love to remorse,

What this one means, we will know in due course.

Presented to a lady, one in mourning for so long,

Has found a new lust, why should it feel so wrong?

Many years have past, since her betrothed did go,

Searching for a man, to become her new beau.

His passion, His grace. All come hand in hand,

She knows what she wants, even at his command.

For she is the strong one, as she holds him at breast,

A thorn it may wound her, yet his love doth attest.

No other does he desire as he’s found his true love,

From the moment he stooped to retrieve her lace glove.

Bowed down before her, only one glance did it take,

For sinful thoughts and dreams he wanted to make.

The passion and desire drove the poor man insane,

For a long time he has needed a woman to cause pain,

A pain mixed with pleasure, leaving him begging for more,

As she strikes his bare flesh, leaving it red hot and raw.

So now the black rose a symbol of sentiment and hurt,

Both meaning more to him than he dare to assert.

He will wait for her love to blossom and bloom,

He’s at her mercy, while sitting at foot as she grooms.