A rose so delicate when grasped
If held too tight it shall crumble
Divulging an inside unknown
Soft spoken words it will mumble

Fell those eyes upon thee
Move so slight or all will be gone
Only sway in a land of no light
Dance free in the darkness until dawn

If spotted once it will be plucked
And left the stem with thorn
Grow it shall not when parted
The stem is left to morn