NOIRÈD

Black eyes and broken smiles linger in the air. Pristine shadows call. I cannot prevent this. Seclusion is the only voice that hears my piteous pleas. I cannot prevent this. A single rose was offered. A single rose bled three tears. A single rose turned to dust and painted my heart grey. I disappear. Caught in the sand, I burn it to glass. My hands are splintered. You did not intend this. The splinters and shards pierce fast, and I die each time. You did not intend this. These black thorns pierce my hands, raw and bleeding now. The deceitful red aches of passion, but burns of sorrow. You created this; you created me. Will you destroy me?