Last Rose of Winter

A single rose stood mourning
For a loved one who had died
Feeling that she couldn't live
without him by her side
The wilted, lifeless body,
lay buried in the snow
The color faded from his lips
His face had lost its glow.

"Why?" cried the rose, to no one there,
"Why should he have died?
You, wind, can you tell me?
Was it justified?"
"Ah, dear rose, whom am I
to say what's right or wrong,
I'm just the Wind of Change, you see,
I'm here and then I'm gone.
But have you never heard the tale
of the last red winter rose?
She stood her ground until the end,
until she stood alone.
Well, dear rose, I'll tell you,
But you must listen well,
For you are all that's left now,
And the story YOU must tell.

The last red rose stood mourning
For a loved one who had died
Feeling that she couldn't live
Without him by her side
Her shawdow cast upon the corpse
As it lay on the ground
Her tears, now, fell quite freely,
as her world came tumbling down.
But memories flutter in the wind,
as from a rose that dies
A lonely, fallen petal,
Whose scent will fade with time.
The snow, yet, falls upon the grave
of one we still hold dear
And covers all the traces
of hurts, bleak hopes and fears.
And like the rose that lies beneath
awaiting only Spring
We suffer for the beauty
that only love can bring."