This rose I keep within me is black
From days gone by of fear and dread
This rose that is for you is withered
From this pain I feel and do not write of
This rose I have planted is wilted and dead
From having me as the planter of the seed
This rose I do not know is harsh and thorny
From being grown within an undead shell
This rose I keep within will stay within
For it can not grow in light of day
This rose is not a rose but a flower of doom
It will be the only rose my heart will see.
