In twilight’s shadow, it blooms with spite,

A rose of darkness, poisonous delight.

Its petals sharp as knives, its scent a snare,

Luring victims to its deadly lair.

Its heart aflame with anger and disdain,

This rose despises life’s gentle rain.

It feeds on pain, on suffering and fear,

And spreads its toxic beauty, far and near.

Its thorns inject a deadly, cruel sting,

Leaving scars that never heal or sing.

Its beauty’s deceitful, a wicked guise,

Concealing venom that destroys the wise.

Beware, for this rose has no remorse,

No pity for the harm it endorse.

It’s a symbol of malice, of hate’s dark fire,

A poisonous, angry rose, that never tires.