Slithers of rainbow torn in shreds
Dreams left shattered on an empty bed
The scent of roses putrid and stale
A memory clinging to a face so pale

So what of dreams and what of desires
When morning extinguishes nightly fires?
Dried up kisses and creased up sheets,
Go then babe and I’ll not weep.

Roses like blood in the morning sun
Shattered like bullets from an assassin’s gun
Tears explode from inside my head
An aftermath of the battle shed.

Janis 2010