A rose was born.
Little did it know it would grow in a world of thorns.
A perfect rose it was.
Little did the thorns know it was sent to heal all of us.
The rose grew wiser and more beautiful everyday.
Little did the thorns know it was here to save.
Nothing could measure to the joy the rose brought.
Little did the thorns know what they fought.
Then the perfect rose had to die.
So the very thorns that killed it could live their lives.
