The Rose
You rose, so pretty and so sad, what do you know of my loss? The steel and beams rise on the spot, it's just a building but not just a building, it's like the Phoenix that rose from the ashes, yes, from the ashes, it's also a resting place.
Rose, do I plant you in my loved one's resting place? no, I will take you home and plant you in my garden and each morn, as the sun rises, I will look at you and with a little smile think of you who died.
The rose will wilter and die but in its place, a nuew rose will be born, let's we forget the sorrow in that little rose, in a tiny small rose for we witness the renewal of life.
~*~ Silvermoon ~*~
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