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 |