Red Rose

Your dreams lay in the fold, a thousand roses once ornate. That makeup on your face, found itself in teary hate.  Tonight you weave a blanket, shrouds that hide your shame. A great deal of your solace, will be caught within a name. Soft white skin you wear, like a guise of pure deceit. Cracked lips as red as roses, that once had tasted sweet. You weep for this waste, a cloud or two should part. To mist away unsettling lies, that bleed into your heart. A swarm of petals detach, from that one mother rose. As every flower someday dies, joining eternity's sweet repose.