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Click hereSitting in a dark room,
In a corner,
Crying, while holding a rose.
Windows open,
Letting the cold air gust inside, cleansing the warmth of the room,
Bring shivers down to the spin, leaving goosebumps.
Dream,
Of holding her in my arms,
Caressing her face, while looking at her.
Punching the chest with the other hand,
Trying to stop this pain from torture,
Having a body that looks good and yet no one to touch is dreadful.
The four corners of the room echo from the howling wind,
While the tears drop with the only light of bright crystals,
Hair rubbing down my face, trying to comfort me.
Holding the rose to tenderly, yet so tightly,
Letting the thorn bleed my fingers,
As I see every lips of petals, dry.
"When will she come?"
I try to save the rose...but she can't wait for me,
I drop the rose, my face is replaced with blood...
~ (A true story of Beauty and the Beast...mine)
Just a petal from a faded Rose ~ is all that remains of a beautiful Love.