The False Rose

I have found the blooming rose in the winter.
Show the beautiful crown,
Blotting out the gloomy,
Blooming cheerily….,
The rose appeared by the whispered of the wind,
Attracted by the false bud,
And persuade adorably. . . .

But the carrion cannot hide it!
Suddenly show, what the real of rose is it?
It looks like the darkly  rose,
Engraving the pure heart it sharps thorn,
The blood never stops to drop. .
Tear down the blood in every part of the heart. . .

Thus, a sickness!
A big falseness. . .
Just a false rose. . .

by: E_R_R