Love is Like a Rose

The rose is the flower’s queen
But its thorns prick sharp
Love isn’t a rose
But when it goes wrong
It pricks just like the rose
Leaving ones heart wounded and bleeding.

In the long, dark night
Lying mortally wounded
The heart bleeds heavy
Waiting for an enfolding embrace
Finding but cold comfort
Alone in the night
Waiting for the morning light

Like the rose
Crushed on the ground
Its petals scattered about
So the heart
Battered and bruised
Waits to heal
Once again to feel.

And like the rose
Which will once again
Blossom and grow
So the heart
Will rally forth
And will know
Love once more.