The Drop of Blood turns black

Roses are red just as blood before it dries black, just as it did, from the knife in my back. The wound, so deep it penetrates my heart, just as it does when we're so far apart. The blood runs down and turns the stem black but , nevertheless the knives still in my back, deeper and deeper like a crazy nights love, screaming, oh God with passion and lust the way this plays out is definitely a must.
Violets are blue as we lay so intense my heart so secluded protected by a emotional fence, not to let out, and not to let in, the passion and lust , defense guarded tall as the blood runs down for one and for all as the rose turns black and the Violet remains blue my heart will stay locked and shattered because I lost you.