Disclaimer: Twilight Saga and all characters are owned by Stephenie Meyer, not me.
A Thistle's Lament
His eyes align with hers,
I yearn to turn away
But my sick self prefers
To willingly fall prey
The poison starts to spread
Their foreheads softly meet
Flashbacks fix inside my head
Of visions bittersweet
She has the thing I yearn for most
But he wants her, not me
And so I play the cheerful host
My haunted spirit bleeds
Forgiveness is a scent
That a rose leaves on the heel
That crushes it without repent
That cares not how it feels
Perhaps one day I'll be the bloom
Instead of thistles sharp
I'll then erase the mournful croon
Of one left in the dark.
A/N: Good? Bad? Ugly? Let me know!