Her eyes are open
Yet she remains blind,
Distracted by the luring scent of the rose.
Oblivious,
Unaware of what it would cost to hold it.
Still...........she holds it.
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The beauty of a rose lies not in its petal alone,
But also in the knowledge of the thorns it
possesses.
It lies in deciding that pain can be pleasurable,
And sometimes tolerable
When the 'HIGH' from it's allure makes it worth it.
But is it really worth it?
For a moment, love may be blind
And oblivious of the very insidiousness that it
harbors
But love is not numb.
For when she can bear the pain no more,
Then her open eyes will unclose
And then, SHE WILL DROP THE ROSE
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