The dead rose in ruby

She bleeds like the color that of ruby,

Rich and dead with sceptical beauty

An unrequited love kept hidden in a wooden case,

Disparged the petaled ghost lying in disgrace

Casketing her past, she sleeps with a shallow breathe,

The withered memories under the moon haunts her to death

In misery her tears carve the path of despair

With every agonizing wail, she condemns life to be unfair

The flare of hope she asked for too long

Must she thought would come through people along

Alas! her naïve heart woven in gold shruken in a throw,

As every soul that lingered for a heartbeat was a disguised shadow