A man comes out of the shadows,
as so it goes.

Held his fist to the doe,
Her money, you know.

“I’ve only but a rose,
one of friendship despite my woes.”

And with that rose she choked.
Like Porphyria’s lover,
coaxed.

Soft mane of death,
like a thorn to the chest.
Only the rose of amity saw the rest.