the-suns-moon

Like the symbolic beauty of the rose, Your love captivates me. Drawing me in with  its sweet aroma, Brightening my home on rainy days, Caressing my heart with soft petals. Yet when I lift its dainty head to my nose, As with your love the flower bites. While my heart is inflated with sweet perfume, Thorns draw forth from my fingers The dark red passion of love. But it is from such fertile liquid that our love grows; Blossoming, even as the sweet symbol withers. Wilted petals, killed by winters cruel frost, Could never diminish our immortal bond. I love you, my love.