Before I bloomed,

it was all red,

running beneath my skin,

nurturing the buds.

 

When I bloomed,

it was all red,

Bursting out of my heart,

Rendering the petals.

 

When I withered,

it was all black,

Clotting in your hands,

Hardening the thorns.

 

After I died,

it was all black,

Congealing beneath the earth,

Preluding a renaissance..

 

When red turns black.

We live through the samsara.

You survive,

I revive