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Rated: E · Poetry · Tragedy · #997434
A short ballad to an ungainly second chance.
The Rose
By Alexander Ingraham

Born into a winter
A deathly time of frost
A time when all I heard was new
A time when all was lost

I didn't think to hear of it
I didn't think to know
Of the harsher frosts ahead
Of the death of newborn rose

Born into a nightmare
An untimely stage of death
The rose was cursed upon us
Devoid of life or breath

A purer thing you never saw
Or would ever see to know
The beauty of fair rose's bloom
From the depths of yonder snow

I swear it, once it spoke to me
Of things that I must do
But fear can kill the strongest heart
The rose, alone, it knew.

I had a choice, it came to me
A decision now to make
For rose, for life, for her, for love,
Or for my own soul's sake

But the rose, alone, it knew to well
The darker sides of fear
And upon the day of reckoning
It was no longer near

The rose, I felt it die that day
Wither in the frost
Its once proud roots were shriveled
Its beauty forever lost

It died upon a winter
An ungainly second chance
Forever lost within the snow
A memory of past

All I ever knew was fear
I never thought to know
Of the harsher frosts ahead
Of the death of newborn rose
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