Sometimes she wondered if her pain was real
If it was something she dreamt of, but couldn't possibly feel

She looked at the rose, that she twirled in her hand
And thought sullenly how nothing ever happened as planned

The thorns on the rose continued to pierce her skin
Unaware of the torture that was soon to begin

The clouds in the distance rolled slowly towards her
And she wished with great grief that the pain wouldn't be directed for her

His haunting figure stepped in though the light
And her heart skipped in stuttered with terrible fright

He drew back his hand, but she bit back her scream
Imagining herself in a terrifying dream

He touched her face softly, feeling the warmth of her skin
As her stomach rolled in disgust with what was about to begin.

His eyes took in her beauty which caused her such pain
And his hand fell hardly against her, hard like the rain

Yes it was the rain disguising her tears
drowning out all sound and peaking her fears

Her rose then fell softly with hate to the ground
Falling to pieces with hardly a sound.