The Second coming

Let me trade the second coming
With your invisibility
And a mirror of fragrance
For the red lonely rose that blossomed
Only to wilt and droop again
- Requiem to its burdensome beauty
Stony eyes of the outcast
Can't quite requite
Social breed, the bleeding present
A snapped kite - dropping dead
Upon my marbled ancient twinklings 
Leaving no scars on his dear pentagon
A vertex
Of stunned silence and wrath
A misfit in the wheel 
Curse to the rhyme of tomorrow
Lies in jest
Crucified to infidelity