They say deep in a forgotten garden,

Where moonlight drinks from silver leaves.

A single rose grew, cursed by envy,

Her beauty guarded by venom and grief.

None dared approach.

For her thorns did not forgive.

Until one man camel

Not to take, but simply to believe.

In a garden no one dared to roam,

Lived a rose, all red and thorns alone.

Her petals shimmered in twilight’s breath,

But love to her was whispered death.

Cursed by a witch with venomous spite,

Each thorn she bore could end a life.

So she stayed still, behind her wall,

Waiting for no one trusting none at all.

Then came a man with tender eyes,

Who saw not danger, but beauty disguised.

He said, “You’re the loveliest flower I’ve known.”

But the rose just trembled, cold to the bone.

“Don’t come too close,” she warned in fear,

“My thorns hold poison, death draws near.”

He only smiled with quiet grace,

And kept returning to that place.

Oh, the venom in the bloom,

Kept her heart locked in a tomb.

But he came, like morning dew,

Soft and gentle, breaking through.

She could never touch or be held tight,

But he stayed, even knowing the bite.

Some love lives knowing it must fall.

Like roses bleeding on a garden wall.

Seasons turned, he never strayed,

With poems and songs, beside her he stayed.

She asked him why he loved her so,

He said, “Even cursed things can glow.”

But the rose wept, “You’ll never know

What it’s like to feel love and let it grow.”

He stepped closer, a breath away,

And whispered, “I’m not afraid today.”

She begged, “No, please don’t bleed for me”

But he touched a thorn and dropped to his knee.

Eyes like moons, she cried in vain,

Holding love in deadly pain.

Oh, the venom in the bloom,

Wasn’t hers, but became her doom.

She bloomed for him in crimson cries,

As he laid still beneath her skies.

Now the garden weeps in midnight rain,

A rose that dared to love through pain.

Some love dies just to be known

And some flowers bloom alone.

Now every bloom she bears is blue,

Touched by sorrow, soaked in dew.

She never loved, but still she gave

And guards his soul beside her grave.

So if you see a rose that cries.

Don’t ask why she guards the skies.

Some hearts are thorns, some hearts are flame.

But love, once touched, is never the same.

༺🌹༻ 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓟𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 ༺🌹༻

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