A red rose is warmth
It is love
A blue rose is a phantom
It is refined guise
A purple rose is a special someone
Warmer than red and cooler than a blue one
A yellow rose is joy
Closely knit with the sun
An orange rose to represent enthusiasm
Fascination and passion
A pink rose for appreciation
Light but pretty
A white rose for purity and spirituality

How about a green rose?
Unique one but common like any other hue of a leaf
But think not about that
Deeper something lies

A black rose then?
Perhaps it is dead, a demonic, forlorn or forgotten
Yet remember this rose is a rose too just like all of you
Just planted on the wrong ***,
raised in a vile way,
watered with poison and plucked from the depths of Tartaros

How about I?
I am the BloodyRose
I may be any of the these roses
Oftentimes, I dream a field of white roses soaked in blood
I like the red rose
Because I too have a heart
Aspire to be a blue rose
In search of a refined self
Like the purple one,
because she has a share in the world of blue and red
I'm more of a green one
Because I myself don't understand
But I portray myself as a black rose...
Only when the other roses reach out will they see the true me.

In the end what matters is not my color,
but the hand that reaches out to me.
What will change me is the hand
who tries to understand me and cares for me.
Just as God is the shepherd to a sheep
A rose needs a gardener too.

I am the BloodyRose - rose soaked in blood...
It matters not whatever color I am
Because as long as my master gardener is here...
My color matters not...
All that matters is that hand reaching out to me
that plucked me
and took care of me...