A rose by any other name,
To me that's what you are.
There is a beauty to you and all that is,
But as with all roses.
Your thorns protect your glowing glare,
There to ***** the fingers of whom don't belong.
I've been close enough to survive the ******,
With bleeding finger tips.
From where my blood doth flow,
But the blood is worth the ******.
For such a roses glow.