Nyx’s cloak draped the world, dark as the midnight sky. The night came and unfold where the waning rays die.
Under the jovial stars, lies a crown and a rose. Broken crown behind bars. His trepid heart beat slows.
Clutching his thorny rose, blood gushed out of his hand. Forbidden love in prose. Tears to the ground, they land.
“My lady Romelia, love of my dearest life. Like a bougainvillea, blooming from dear life’s strife.”
Behind the rusty bars, resides a fallen prince. Holding his lovely rose. Sufferer of life’s woes.