Writing Until the Red Rose Withers
Writing until the Red Rose Withers
Trickling down my hand
One drop at a time
Writing until it hurts
It aches with pain
The Red Rose blooms wistfully
My fingernails caked in it
My pinky finger still blooming at full pace
Blooming for all eternity
Shining, red, dripping.
One drop at a time,
Writing until the blood has stoped.
And, finally, finally, I can rest.
Author Notes: Another depressing one! Yay(not)! I wonder if you understood what the Rose is. Tell me in comments below!