A blooming rose
Sits on my windowsill
Watering can in hand
I feed it well
It opens to me
A beautiful red
A damning colour
Beauty can be bad
A watereed rose
A drowned wife
Such an event
Enraged me so
That when I next saw
A blooming rose
Waiting on my sill
I left it to die
And watched
My world prosper
Without letting
A cursed rose bloom.
Imagination Mansion 