Roses and Guns

As he is aroused by the bittersweet scent of the crimson bullet,

A super critical flow rushes through his veins to his heart.

As the fading rose subdues into shades of scarlet,

And so he knew their paths would part.

A Rose and a gun would have all the symbols of a setting sun,

One that would rise no more.

To a romantic the rose would've brought love and affection,

To a soldier the gun would've brought security and protection.

Instead the gun would take a soul and the rose would rest the soul in peace,

For the being left to smell the crimson scent and lay the metal rose on marble stone.

The sun has set and for the night he'll be alone,

Sleepless nights to be spent in thoughts of dimensions unknown.

Roses and Guns, could've been there to help them grow older.

Yet a beautiful flower and a smoking barrel would tear them apart forever.

Mzukhology