Rose

Now this is one I really enjoyed. The themes behind it, of finally realizing that all you had held precious was nothing but a dead flower makes me smile. Twisted? Surely.

Rose

A rose, a single rose
from deep in my garden grand.
Dark red petals arose;
held it closely in my hand.

I showed it to the world,
no one saw the beauty there.
Insults at it they hurled.
Beauty rose from garden fair.

I called this rose my love,
a Heaven in my dark Hell.
The rose; all I thought of
cast on me it's scarlet spell.

This question came to me:
Why could no one see our light?
Wrong, surely, I must be.
This stayed with me day and night.

As I grew, the rose ne'er died.
And I laid myself down to bed.
I woke from death and I cried:
All along, my rose had been dead.