Black Rose

She sits at her mirror brushing her hair, dressed in black velvet with just the right flair. She puts on her makeup with ever an ease, ready for the night, ready to please. She picks up her flower and closes the door, its sunset this evening, who could ask for more? She walks through the tall grass with a graceful pose, she bends down to lay her perfect black rose. She wipes the tears that fill up her eyes and visions of the past marquis the skies. He was her love, her dream come true, but God said "now I have to take him from you". She wanders back home and enters the door, pictures of him scattered all over the floor. Upstairs she ascends, ready to sleep, with visions of him, she begins to weep. She lays on the bed, not a sound to be heard, she whispers, "I love you" but he never utters a word.