The Graveyard Rose
She was beautiful, unlike any other
She stood high above the ground, shining with bright colours
Perhaps,
Had she grown somewhere else
People would line up to take in her scent
But she was lonely,
The only rose to rise where the dead lie
So nobody ever came to keep her alive
Yet she still grows
In a field of snow, a picture so cold
There, the red beauty stands warm
As if her roots had grabbed the center of the Earth below
In a loving embrace, never willing to let it go
There she stood
A soul so misunderstood
The graveyard rose
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