Poem For the Rose

Oh, why must the rose have thorns? When its immense splendor is protection enough? Nothing would harm a beauty such as this. Imprisoned by its radiance I fell into its trap. Engraved my hand on its spike, I did. Released its deadly toxin into my body, it did. Yet, as I expire I hold it close. Receiving the poison as a gift from a goddess, Unknowing to its secret nature. The rose….is a ruse, A grand one indeed. Playing its part with malevolence and greed.