A rose in her hand,
She was once that fairest in the land,
She sits down to think,
While in her thoughts, she suddenly begins to sink.
The snow – covered ground,
She could hear no sound,
Except for the voice of her soul,
Crying out, screaming, wanting to be whole.
She stares up into the night sky,
A full moon…she releases a sigh,
What a wonderful sight,
It was too bad that she was filled with fright.
Letting go of the rose in her hand,
The once most beautiful rose in the land,
She drops onto the snow bed
Which the color had turned from pure white to blood red
The sickness that she had,
The reason for her being sad,
Has taken away the life that once used to dwell,
As soon as the red, red rose, gradually fell.
She was once that fairest in the land,
She sits down to think,
While in her thoughts, she suddenly begins to sink.
The snow – covered ground,
She could hear no sound,
Except for the voice of her soul,
Crying out, screaming, wanting to be whole.
She stares up into the night sky,
A full moon…she releases a sigh,
What a wonderful sight,
It was too bad that she was filled with fright.
Letting go of the rose in her hand,
The once most beautiful rose in the land,
She drops onto the snow bed
Which the color had turned from pure white to blood red
The sickness that she had,
The reason for her being sad,
Has taken away the life that once used to dwell,
As soon as the red, red rose, gradually fell.
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