Flames, slowly dissolving into the shape of a rose

The roses blazed like flames --
When the sweet nectar of poetry filled your mouth.

The roses flared like the sun --
When the graze of dandelion made you write.

The roses ignited with a smile --
When pain and feelings blossomed into beauty.

The roses withered away --
And that was fine.

The roses weren't always beautiful --
But they were always loud.