The Death of a Rose

A gardener planted several seeds Amongst a pile of grass and weeds In hopes that they would never grow. Still time ticked on and continued so. Rain drops fell from skies of gray Eventually letting light give way And against the odds a flower grew As a sacred stem began to shew. Soon a bulb began to form As time went on like a raging storm. The bulb revealed a satin rose. How it survived nobody knows. The rose danced in the gentle breeze As pollen was brought by bumble-bees. Still the gardener did not know That the satin rose continued to grow. The rose stood up with elegant pose Destined with greatness with which God chose. A precious life amongst the weeds Innocence born from sacred seeds. One sunny day the gardener came out To see if or if not the roses had sprout. Like a surprised child she happened to see A fragile rose as lively as a tree. Quickly she lit a fiery flame And what she did next was a terrible shame. With a sudden flick and a hurried flash The rose turned into lifeless ash. Oh, oh, to the death of a rose. Why she killed it, God only knows. Oh, oh, to the death of a rose. Why she killed it, God only knows. Oh, oh, to the death of a rose. Why she killed it, God only knows.