Dark Rose Dark Rose

The rose is sable,
A picture of perfection...darkness,
A messenger of the dual realities of good and evil,
And the elusive void between.

It's petals are soft,
Perfectly shaped,
A reminder that malevolence often hides,
Behind a veiled mask of beauty,
And even this rose,
Whose curling tendrils seem to embody perfection,
Holds hidden thorns,
Holding no qualm in drawing blood,
From innocent and guilty alike.

In which of these groups I reside,
An enigma,
As a single crimson tear,
Falls upon an ebony petal.