Her love is as
fragile as a sweet delicate rose.
Beautiful to the eye yet noone really knows.
Within this sweet blossom grows a troubled heart.
Scared of loosing again and of making a new start.
Afraid of telling and revealing her soul.
Scared of committing and yet to scared to let go.
For she has always known heartache and has always known pain.
She thought she had a future and then came the rain.
The storm clouds they rolled in, the wind how it blew.
The pain in her heart took seed and it grew.
The rose still was beautiful but the thorns were there too.
They tarnished the rose in the misty morning dew.
The rose has started to whither and soon it will die.
I pray for all of Gods angels to look on her and cry.
Please nourish this beauty and refresh her anew.
Let her stand tall in the misty morning dew.
Give her the strength to flourish and grow.
She is beautiful to the eye yet noone really knows.
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