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Description
It sits gracefully on the bush, its home.
Your rose has no other like itself. I
had crumbled up long ago, and now my
petals fly away on the wind. I race

to a thousand places. I am alone.
Your rose is in full bloom, and it is by
your heart it grows. And I do fully lie
in the wind's power. I race as waves foam

and crash onto the shore. Now the quick pace
pulls me towards you. My last petal, floating,
touches your rose. Both burst into fire.

The flames make a new rose and those looking
see it burning then freezing. Now my face
is yours. The bards tell this with a lyre.

Description
It sits gracefully on the bush, its home.
Your rose has no other like itself. I
had crumbled up long ago, and now my
petals fly away on the wind. I race

to a thousand places. I am alone.
Your rose is in full bloom, and it is by
your heart it grows. And I do fully lie
in the wind's power. I race as waves foam

and crash onto the shore. Now the quick pace
pulls me towards you. My last petal, floating,
touches your rose. Both burst into fire.

The flames make a new rose and those looking
see it burning then freezing. Now my face
is yours. The bards tell this with a lyre.