The Rose
A single witness,
A lone rose,
Who stands proud and majestic.
A single red rose,
Honorable and regal,
As she brightly lights the room.
Yet, she senses darkness looms,
As the storms approach,
When a petal falls to the floor.
She is a witness to what is yet to come.
She cannot alert or give warning,
Just witness as another petal falls.
Time does not stand still,
History is being recorded, as always.
The storm is here,
Lightning, thunder, and wind, but
It is just mere words,
The slap, the assault as another petal falls,
As the blood drips from the rose onto the floor.
She lays there beaten and silent,
As the rose cries, and
The silence in the room is deafening.
She looks at the rose,
As two petals fall to the floor,
She is aware of the rose and
Silently saying, don't leave me,
All the while as evil looms above her.
A loud thunderous noise and,
The police erupt into the room,
Tackling the evil and saving her from the devil.
She walks over and kisses the rose,
Standing one survivor and a lone silent witness,
As she says, thank you, you saved me.
The rose glows brightly, almost smiling, and
Then she realizes the rose stands majestic and proud,
As a single tear drops on the rose,
Petals are magically given life,
As the rose has been reborn.
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