Roses burned
in reconciled soil,
like stars,
they grew with beauty
and burned, so violently.
Blue;
crying, so quietly,
mourning lost brothers,
taking in their light,
leaving only a silhouette.
As roses burned.
Red;
with passion,
anger and joy;
in those around them.
So beautiful, so great,
so superior, out shining
each other.
As roses burned.
Black,
dead and wilting,
an emotion genocide
shedding ember tears
and the inflamed reason of
not deserving the life
given to them.
As roses, so foolishly, burned,
out their wondrous beauty,
in needless pain.
Roses burned.
