Beauty of red

The fragrance so pure,
hearts melt for sure,
The feel of silk or velvet,
A touch makes your hand wet,
My fingers touch the scarlet,
it made my hands go red
That was the feel of love,
They were meant for someone....

The color was the beautiful crimson.............

The scarlet now was jaded,
the color had faded,
the feel was of gone forever,
but still my hand was wet,
it was again the scarlet red,
This was the new feel of love,
no longer we wanted to see other,
someone who was so near
but her memories were now a pain to bear,

the thorn of the rose had ripped my hand,
leaving a pool of sickening red.............