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Description
Drop by drop,
Dripping on the floor.
An ivory hand,
hanging off the bed.
The rivers flowing down,
across pure smooth skin.
The pool below grows,
Staining the floor.
The liquid is dark,
Seeming almost black.
The light is poor,
but the scene is clear.

A sort of graceful beauty,
Portrayed in this sharp contrast,
of dark and light,
red and white.
Silky and smooth looking,
Shiny and Scarlet.
Who knew she'd be so much more beautiful,
More beautiful when stone, cold, dead.

A brush in had,
picture in mind,
dip it in your paints,
the pool.
Paint a rose of life and death,
Paine me a rose in blood.

Friends may come and go,
paint can fade,
cities fall and new ones raised.
But Blood is eternal.

Even in fading,
red-brown like rust.
A sort of antique,
unique, style of trait.
The blood rose,
Eternal,
Beautiful,
Forever.