I sought and brought you roses and i hope youll like them, i hope youll hold them close to your heart that flourish and blosome so that you keep it as a festival gift, money have i none but i have silver in the stars and gold in the sun yet out of labour i give you these black roses and hope your hold them as a souvenir and cherish their fragrance, i feel obliged and obligated to put a smile on your face, i feel guilty over your sadness to the extent of feeling under debt if i hear the sound of your tear in a silent way,so without thinking twice or thrice i beseech for your allegiance countenance glamour that prone to intertwine to combine and incline the staid laid sane soul of mine i await full of joy derived from your soft inevitable lips of seduction,put your mind together and open your eyes, as your retina to inspect and reflect more light on the blind spot i find perhaps you may see the worth of the black rose please listen to my soul
that cries and lies within the thorn of its voice and chocked me to have a wheeze, these black roses i split to show you my contentment, having you is a blessing a complement from God, with closed eyes i crave and ponder the beauty you gave.