The Black Rose - Chelle

The black rose
It pricks me
And makes me bleed
Red blood
The blood trickles down my wrist
It makes a red stain
Down my arm
My white shirt begins
To turn Burgundy
The black rose has
Pricked me many times
In my heart
And the pain I seek is
Not in my heart
But in my mind.

Chelle - July 16th 1994