In shadows deep, where sorrow dwells,
A tale unfolds, the saddest of sells.
A merchant walks, burdened with plight,
Trading roses fair for weapons of night.

With weary steps and weary eyes,
He roams the streets where despair lies.
His soul once vibrant, filled with glee,
Now trapped in a web of tragedy.

In search of solace, his heart does seek,
To mend the wounds that seem so bleak.
He wields his trade, a haunting exchange,
Guns for roses, a pact so strange.

Each crimson bloom, a fleeting hope,
A fragile symbol, a chance to cope.
He...