ROSES

It looked like crimson red

Blood flowed from the body-held bed

Pale skin, bluish-green veins 

Closer I looked, all had red stains

Holding roses close to her heart

She left a handwritten note like an art

Her heartbeats I could still hear 

Thousand of thoughts rushing with fear

Her half-open eyes counting the last breath

As if she was waiting for the death

I lifted her and rushed to the hospital

At first, Everyone was in a denial

But my persistence got an approval

Real Love cannot be this cruel

With the thoughts of optimism

I tried to pacify her pessimism

Her unwell mind needed medication

But was afraid of a few folks of our nation.

With roses in my hands, I tried to challenge the thorns.

In the end, my fight met with mourns.