From the ashes, black and grey she arised.
Beauty from her pain, she will never be the same.
Shame that no rainstorm could ever wash away.
And to his dismay she smiles,
Torn apart, damaged and frail.
She has broken free, free from his chains.
Now battered and bruised; she has emerged from the ashes.
Like a rose she yearns to be, but a thorn is all we shall see.

As if thirsty for blood, she has chosen wisely he will be her next victim.
With trickery up her sleeve.
She lures him into a safe haven, lures him into her cocoon into her bed.
Passionate love making she gives him all he desires, she has become all that he needs.
And just before he can utter those three words of despise
She destroys him. A necessary lesson of life someone had to teach,
and in her head she is jusitified.
Shame on him for falling for the beauty of a rose, without knowing the truth of what lies within.
He should have known what lies behind every beautiful rose.

From the ashes she has risen; like a rose is her beauty.
Beauty from her pain, she will never be the same.
Shame that no rainstorm could ever wash away.
Like a rose she yearns to be, but a thorn is all we shall see.