After Reading a Poem

Red, red, red, like the blood drop on your fingertips Or the petals of a fresh Rose - What was the purpose? Or did the Fates pull our strings together: to my lips bring your fingers now so I can heal the pain, my Rose. Wait, wait, wait, a hurricane may twist and throw But a girl’s heart cannot be moved, not so fast, Or it will crack and break with the first moon’s glow. Which do you prefer? Beauty or time to last? Oh, time, time time, because beauty will ever win And her victory must endure more than a smile From the angel when he saw God’s love within. The bosom of first maid halting time for awhile. Words, words, words, I must be very watchful, They can make my face red as the same rose that drew blood from my fingers: Never dull but dangerous for a girl with so much to lose. Silence, Silence, Silence, the Sun and the Moon make no sound facing each other in the above sky, then, why would a bride and her groom needs any words to continue with their love.