I stare at a rose so
tentatively but I,
see the strewn blood
of the
beloved Samfras;
“Oh why did I take the
blood of him
why do I watch before
my eyes
i see him die?” The blood drips
Softly on my,
lips as I hold
it to smell, but not even do
so, I lick one pedal, just to taste
the last but ending of his
dying words, “i oh so adore him.”