The Rose

Once bloomed a rose so young and fair With dark brown eyes and long black hair Beside her be a tall dark tree Whose branches stretch to smother thee Too close beside the shadowy bark That soon begins to leave its mark She cries for help, but none shall hear Her thorns too sharp, who’d dare go near? To save this rose, who’d risk their life? With naught to gain but pain and strife Alone, afraid, she lays to rest Her heart beats low inside her chest And with the hour growing near She sheds her final grieving tear And so the rose soon falls asunder Her final day, eternal slumber She lies beside the old dark tree The only one who mourns for thee