Disclaimer: Are these really necessary? I hardly own the computer I'm typing on…oh well, on with the poem.


I walk along,

Passing humans,

Nodding my head in greeting.

Lifting my head,

I catch its intoxicating scent on the breeze,

Nature's perfume.

Looking down,

I notice my favorite thing.

Simple and sweet.

Its perfect blossom

Is dappled with dew.

Glowing with young radiance.

It is the color of love,

Of passion, of anger.


It is the color of blood.

Blood I have spilled.


This rose reminds me of something.

My past, my history,


It whispers to me memories.

Memories that I can't erase,

And can't forget.

This bloom is perfect,

But it will not last.

In time, it will fade, wilt, and die.

But, this is not the last one.

No, there are many more roses to come.

And more memories, tinted red.

Plucking the rose, it twirls in my fingers.

It might come in handy,

This rose.

It's about Kurama if for some strange and twisted reason you didn't catch that. I hope you liked it! It's one of my personal favorites. Please review!