I stole your favourite blood-red roses
And gifted you some fake flowers
You wove them around your body
As if decorating yourself with the powers
Of our imaginative love

I ripped you apart as you were tied
Along with all those green, tender stems
Each drop of your blood coated the flowers
I ignored the essence of life for some gems
I still have those blood-red roses

I stood in front of your door, eyes closed
I kept a fresh bouquet of your favourite flowers there
I was a coward to knock on the door
So, I just returned back to the place where
The blood-red roses were still bleeding