Oh, how the hue of crimson doth shine,
As bright as the blood of a valiant swine.
And in the hands of two men in love,
A rose of such color doth oft prove.
Their love as true as the sky above,
And as fierce as the lion’s roar.
Their bond as strong as a mighty oak,
And as sweet as a honeycomb’s stroke.
Yet society doth frown upon,
Their love as if it were a sin.
But like a sword of steel, they stand,
Defying the norms of this land.
And in their hands, a rose so red,
A symbol of love, not to be misread.
For love knows no color, no shape, no form,
And in their hearts, it shall forever transform.
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