Metamorphosis

A white rose turned red.

I was incognito, 

hiding in the shade of darkness, 

standing in the center of the crowd, 

trying to interact heartedly, 

yet the will of mine is timid as the wind. 

I was alone,

 but I've everything, 

my mind's full of perspective, my heart is innocent, 

my hands grasp the virtuosity, my eyes are seeing the colorful masterpieces, however; 

it seems selfish 

not only me, but them.

 I am special.

 The only one white rose blooms in the bed of blood roses 

like a star sparking in the mellow night.

 Seeking for presence, 

but leaving me as an absence. 

Hence, can a lone rose outlast in the dusk of the sunset?

 A lovely rose soon withered 

nonetheless, it begins to grow once again.

 I'm enlightened. 

A sunrise gives light on my way,

 realizing not the only one unique, 

yet all of us.

 A drop of blood on petal made it stronger. 

Thorns fade, stems got thicker 

Dark reddish scarlet diffuses in me, 

Today as a blooming flower, I'll glow 

With a color of the river of life,

 I'm one of them yet 

I'm still myself. 

Gaining bees on my pollen, 

Drawing butterflies nearby,

 Bearing sweet goldish honey, 

Fruits of labour were harvested. 

The dawn of the sun smiles at me. 

It feels warm like a fire.

 Savoring the scorch weather,

 Putting a curve on my face, 

Everytime I hug this morning, 

Implying to me, 

Give day a blast.