roses have thorns

there was a prince cursed as a Beast,

wealthy yet a pauper. It was like he was carrying

a wreath of rocks.

unleashed,

my love is a Beast,

fierce like dagger-shaped icicles,

yet gentle like the Rose.

the irony...

in something so fragrant and delicate,

determining a destiny so

momentous, the destiny itself could crush

mountains, forget a few petals.

my love is a Rose,

a juicy ruby

encased in crystal.

my love is the very fateful Rose

belonging to the misfortuned Beast.

who so ferociously waits for

a turn in destiny, where

sharp thorns disintegrate, and

velvety petals overtake, as

cushion for the heart.