Desired Lust

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.”