Petals of a black rose

On the first night of spring,

     My petals begin to dream

Like an ornate orb— the full moon shines.

 As I bloom, I fear

      For my fragrance shall near

An awaited enchantress— her concern for years.

People fear her black tear,

    Her cold gaze, scarlet lips,

Ebony black hair— against her ivory skin.

When lobelia sleeps, her blood slowly drips

   From her grimy black nails;

My petals shiver— abated by blood droplets.

The world darkens, the moon turns blood red

   My petals fall apart

Swaying with the melody of a sad death.

The writer is a class 11 student in Bir Shreshtha Noor Mohammad Public College