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
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