Why Must The Roses Be Red?

When all color is lost in the meaning
And words are deemed unworthy,
When the clouds obscure tainted halos
And thorns grace flesh beneath lies,
Our twisted stems will intertwine.

What has become of the purity,
The innocence gracefully stained?
What has become of the memories,
The promises mercilessly destroyed?
Tears are no longer enough to bleed.

Why must we battle with blood
When we could smile with delight?
Why must we scream with passion
When we could sing with sincerity?
In the end we all wilt the same.

Reviews

[IAmGhost120]

I like your last stanza, which reinforces the motif of asking why things are the way that they are. Excellent closing line; it really drives the point home.

[ba_mcfarlane]

perfect.