Ah...the sweet scent of a rose.
Drowning in the sweetness of it.
Pale in the light of sun,
Stood my pretty white rose.
Proud and beautiful,
Alone and forlorn.
A finger pricked I upon her thorn.
A drop of blood upon her pale petal fell.
Spread like wildfire that one drop of blood did,
Watched I as my pretty white rose turned scarlet.
The sun itself cringed at the sight of it.
The birth of a rose of mine very own blood.
Of...my one perfect rose.