A Burnt Rose

A burnt rose.
It’s lost its color,
The crimson that shone,
Is now long gone,
Thorns remain.

You burnt a rose,
It was pretty once.
Now it’s charred,
And cant be bought back.

Innocently it once adorned,
The garland of love.
You burnt it,
Amidst the cries,
Lies it's burnt soul.