The Rose and the Wounded

The numerous drops of crimson colors the sky,

As the heart of mine wilt and die.

I was wounded and torn apart,

Bits and pieces to a broken heart.

I was never tired of loving you.

And I was eager to prove it true.

Roses are red, Violets are blue,

That rose I picked was only you.

I thought I've found the one for me,

But I was wrong as you could see.

You left me there in that pouring rain,

I was broken, shattered and full of pain.

My heart was fragile like a glass,

I have become a speck of dust.

I may be wounded but I'm not dead.

I will never forget the things that you said.

The thorns from the rose, I chose

Came rushing to me.

The wings of love and the dove shut closed.

But I didn't found the key..