**note- this poem has nothing to do with my life, and no it is not to my ex either**
A dark Angel,
lost in his own darkness,
crying for help,
All alone,
holding on to nothing,
but a single black rose.
A fallen angel,
lost to herself,
bleeding and broken,
to weak to call for help,
in her hands,
just as weak as she,
rests a single white rose,
a symbol for free.
In a cell,
thats darker than hell,
or the bottom of a well,
he hears her sobbing,
so lonely,
she cries,
Oh Why?
His answering call,
sweeter than all,
why are you crying,
when im the one dying?
he holds out the black rose,
just for her,
instantly she knows,
and holds out her white rose,
taking them into their hands,
intertwining them,
blood,
he whispers,
it needs our blood to show us the light,
He holds out his hand,
she jumps back in fright,
he says,
its alright,
she pricks her finger,
the drops land on the roses,
he does the same,
they look into eachothers eyes,
neither of them tame,
the roses glow,
between their hands,
a bright glowing light,
sorounds them,
peaceful at last,
a laugh,
escapes them both.
When they look down,
they see,
a red rose,
now there were three,
red, white, and black,
lead them back,
outside,
it is light,
which they found,
bright,
in eachothers eyes.
