It holds such splendor in supple petals sweet,
Vines intertwine with a beauteous poetic feat.
Colors manifold tint a fragrant rose,
But alas jagged thorns upon it also grows.
For what would be beauty without malice,
What in life beholds such boundless bliss.
To live, appreciate the toils we shall meet,
For strife, drives us harder to be complete.
So in balance we shall strive to remain,
With sorrow we flourish with the pain.
Beauty is not found in what we perceived,
But a scented rose's fragrance achieved.