the blackrose

in the petals of the blackrose,
i saw a crimson mouth to kiss.
her slender stalk - all lush green;
i was caught in eternal bliss.

deep, dark and lustful, there she stood.
shamelessly, i drank in the scene.
had she blushed deeper still,
further enchanted i would have been.

"wats in a name", he once had said.
"a rose is a rose", it may seem.
why then this scarlet beauty is black?
what could in heavens be the theme?

is her tale of long lost love?
is she burdened with mourning?
or is 'black' the serenity of night?
its mysteries- that keep me pondering....

i felt her move, saw her beckon.
inching close, i heard her whisper;
the dark tales of her dark past,
of dying love and dead hearts that linger.

velvety softness i reached out to feel,
beauty priceless in all the pelf.
seduced by the touch, i did forget,
the guarding thorns upon her self.

a prick, pain, a drop of blood.
the same red as that of the rose.
it trickled down her crimson lips,
she too bled as i held her close.