The Duel

Teardrops and twisted thorns suffocate the thoughts
But petals open to light inflicted scars
And like a cure
Beauty rids the pain

Crested auras break the surface
Casting shadow aside
But always one cloud remains
The blackness creeping from doubt to haunt the future

Faded snow destroys the genuine
Smothering the new fall
Yet still it snows, eager to purge the ruin
And save the rose from these twisted thorns.