blood white rose

A white rose

laid in front of me

So innocent

so alone

I sat there.

And picked it up.

I gazed at its beauty.

I made a wish.

Hoping that this rose was a sign.

A tear fell from my eye.

And i cried.

I white rose

now had blood

over it's petals.

I looked at my hand.

It's thorn

had pecked

my finger.

But how did so much blood

come from a little cut?

I looked to the sky

and saw a light.

A light that you read about in books.

A light that people swear

doesn't exist.

Yet here I am

looking at it

as it surrounds me.

I realize what this light is for.

As wings grow from my back.

They are white

with blood stains.

Just like the rose

that laid in my hand.