The Fall of the Roses

It came up through the ground Slowing moving up the stem A sickness that turn the roses To an ugly blackness The scent of ugliness filled The air Humans worked hard To come up with reason For everything within a humans mind Must have reason But humans has no true reason Why such beauty weep dying Unsolved Mysteries A distance memory to What once was A picture implanted in ones mind For beauty has been dying for Century's Look around see how many memory's Can be found Take a good look around The sickness is beneath the ground