Thorns

To once a beautiful flower was born,
with blood-like petals and blade-like thorns
but when the flower has lost the sight,
of the silvery moon and the stars at night
a blood-like petal and heartbreak shall fall,
a raindrop of dew and the sight of them all
descended as more of the petals are lost,
shrinking and freezing in the grip of the frost
And now the flower has begun to rise,
the others shall see it with jealous eyes
One small faith has pushed it to shine,
the hope of another has kept it alive.