Tails split into two
As if it was the only option
The only option seen
From a rose with burnt spots
Thorns broken in half

No water left
Yet it stalks above the ground
Shadowing the white growing
Growing beneath its petals

And when the white extends
Extends to the tips of the rose
Is there again only one option?
And is that to wither

Wither like great trees
Trees burnt with fire
Spreading vastly as if a liar

And if it were to twine apart
Apart into two
would it sprout a new head
A head with new petals
That seeks the dark anew