The flow of lust and attraction fluctuating in their blood when they see my gorgeous form reminded me the effectiveness of my outer appearance.

- I used to make use of that.

The way they always fell in my trap reminded me of what I was capable of 

 - I used to feel proud of myself.

The fear in their eyes reminded me of the monster that I really was 

 - I used to enjoy myself. 

*** 

The sweetness of her blood reminded me of love and life before darkness.  

- And I hated that.

The way she refused to fall in my trap and bravely fought back reminded me of what she was capable of 

- And I am ashamed of myself.

The fear in her eyes reminded me of the hideous creature which ventured in the moon’s light, that I really was.

- And I felt like dyeing all over again, that to slowly and painfully.

That golden-red rose bloomed when the clock struck twelve. Under the surveillance of the moon and stars, I spoke my vow of keeping it safe in my hands for eternity. I reached out my hands for my rose but, for some reason the sharp thorns that were guarding the golden petals scratched my weak dead heart drawing blood from it. 

I wiped off the blood on my fingers and let my beat less heart rest for a second.

It has been decided

My Midnight rose will rest on my palms even if that takes me to pull the flower off its roots, killing it in the process. 

I am willing to preserve its life with my love

But will my rose even accept eternal love from me in the first place?