Even ebony roses bloom,
In repressive cemetery gloom.
Mournful kinsman intrepidly weep,
For restless ghosts in Grimm's keep.
Basking beneath waxen moon glow,
Iridescent souls deify exquisiteness below.
Alas ebony roses generously share,
Whilst solemnly residing there.
For in peaceful somber gloom,
Is fragrant splendor of the bloom.