Like a gentle and beautiful rose sprung out of the soil

pure and innocent like the first snow nothing it can spoil

but yet jagged and thorned defensively, a true nature's toil


Spreading up towards the sky for the feeble sunlight

closing up every night when the cold comes oh so tight

but seems so untouched and pure like without plight


Love is like a rose having it's thorns but yet it's temptation

many fall fools to the beautiful and pure creation

but few are willing to withstand when it brings damnation


Love isn't just beautiful pedals or ever so green thorns

false love you fall a fool for and can't handle to grab the horns

true love is when you with pride wear that crown of thorns


True love is when you're not afraid of petty thorns, you grab them and hold on until you bleed out and prove that you are worth feeling love.