The Rose

A silver rose upon the path
All thorns and luster of the moon
A rose of love, of death, of magick
To a girl, her death too soon

"Is this for me?" she asked the trees
"Or some other passer-by's?"
"It is yours if you choose it to be"
The Night itself seemed to reply

"What else am I accepting,
If I take this deadly rose?
A death of magick and adventure
Of which Hecate only knows?"

"A kiss, my love, and nothing more,"
Answered the Night once more.
"A kiss of danger and intrigue,
And all that you have wished for"

And so I fall into the Night
Disappearing from the path
Leaving you all only this:
A silver rose upon the path