I do not own Ninjago. I guess you could call this a rant for the fact that I still can't get over the crushed Llorumi ship :). MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8: SONS OF GARMADON. Do NOT read if you have not seen it (unless you want to, then go for it). Just an idea that I got in my head that I had to get off my chest. I'm quite proud of this one. The feels for Lloyd (it's in his POV) in this are absurd, so grab a box of tissues if you need them. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this. My sister loved it, so I hope you do too. Thanks. Ardhoniel out!

A Rose

When I first laid eyes on her,

She was the most lovely thing I had ever seen.

Sweet, gentle, surprisingly modest for a royal.

Her simple face paint concealed the beautiful face I knew was there,

Her unblemished cheeks and full lips the color of a rose.

She never wanted for anything, not with the mask on.

Then I chased her along those fragile rooftops,

Running towards the Juliet I knew I had found for myself.

She was kind,

The way a mother is to her children.

Why did she feel the need to hide her true self?

I was coming to grips with feelings

I had never been able to understand before.

I wanted more than anything

To scoop her up

And let her be herself

With me,

To a place she could call home.

Maybe my wish was coming true when she was left alone

With no one to turn to but me.

Despite the way the day had begun,

I was happy,

Because she was with me,

And I vowed to never let anything harm her.

Nothing would come to her.

Nothing could take away

The bliss I was feeling,

When she would stand in front of me,

Turn towards me,

Shy,

Hesitant,

But with a warmth as well.

She disappeared

Into the shadows,

For what remained to be a lifetime.

She needed me.

She said it herself.

The realization that she made me complete hit me,

A warm feeling spreading in my chest.

There was nothing that could take her away from me.

I vowed to continue to fight for my rose

Fragrant and frail, but miraculous.

But the trick to a rose:

Hold too tightly

And you get pricked.

This rose did not care for me.

It didn't speak my name with longing and trust.

It didn't tell me it loved me.

One by one,

The petals fell,

The flower shedding its beautiful, soft skin,

Until there was nothing left

But a dead, thorny stem.

The rose had become a thorn.

She had no consideration for what I wanted,

What I needed her to be,

For what I wished I would never have to encounter again:

The monster that had consumed my father,

Until there was nothing left

But an outer shell

Of dark and cold despair.

She blamed me,

She would never be happy with me,

Not even if she tried.

I knew it in my heart

My rose was gone.

She was not my Juliet.

She was not my wish come true.

She was not the princess I thought I knew her as.

But most of all,

She could never be mine.

There's nothing in this world that hurts more,

Than to have your trusted friend

Be transformed into your enemy

Before your very eyes.

The aching hole that she leaves

Has become a consuming void.

Not even my brothers are here anymore

To help me close it.

She caused it.

She caused all the pain I am now suffering.

There would always be that thorn in my side.

But what if you still love that very thorn,

Even as it digs into you,

Imbedded in your skin so deep

That you can't remove it,

Like a painful, wooden splinter.

You can't remove how you feel about the rose,

Even now.

Perhaps the soil can make the flower grow again,

And it will blossom into a more wonderful being

Than it ever was before.

There is beauty,

Even in the ugliest places.

There is light,

Even in the blackest night.