Near lattice work of emerald green, a
rose of crimson hue,
it's vibrant color called to me,
so I much closer drew.
Like a swaying scarlet cobra, it reared,
prepared to strike,
I stared back at the flower, with
a strange, intense dislike.
He did not lunge, but studied me, sizing
up his prey,
he moved with snake like sureness, a flowing negligee.
His eyes now shone clearly, small beads
of deep blood red,
they danced like sparkling rubies, embedded in his head.
I closed my eyes then opened them, but
he was still right there,
watching, never blinking, with a cold hypnotic stare.
Later, there's a body, a corpse in the morning dew,
face down in the grass, near a rose of crimson hue.
I
reach out, roll it over, so I might better see,
that's when the nightmare really begins,
It's face belongs to me !
