Rose.

I go from loving you so much
as my kindred muse,
to resenting you so much
as my worst foe.

From waiting for you all my life,
to dismissing you every time.
From drowning you in flowers,
to burning them all the next minute.
Yet I have never been this fluid with anyone;
you let me be.
Is it possible that even my deepest hate
is a form of awe?

My heart moves from fire to cold,
from cold to fire,
While flames fuel it over and over more,
the sudden frost freezes our love.
But if it were to yield to such harshness,
it would have already faded before.
If opposites did not owe their existence to each other,
they would have already proven futile.
We, as two roses on the same twig,
can never separate.

We held each other in embrace,
and watched stars tirelessly dance.
Even if we are separated by far continents,
the Moon unites us; it is both here and there.
We are in the same universe,
same galaxy,
same planet,
and under the same time.
We exist within all of these,
despite all of those.
We are a result of an infinite chance coming true,
the only alternative within fate.

Your eyes speak to me;
I speak their language.
They gazed into me, they told me.
They shined under the bare moonlight, they taught me.
Loving someone I hate,
pushing away something I desire.
You are my beautiful lie,
my sweet nightmare.

We ignited each other in a cave,
and bled together in strife.
Upon this pool of blood,
didn’t we shine once more?
Even if you hide in corners,
I will watch you with my eye.
Even under unimaginable circumstances,
I will imagine you remembering me.
Maybe that is what’s called the thorns of the rose;
maybe that is where lies the beauty of our essence?