Was she blessed with beauty,
Or is it a curse or just her duty?
You'll wonder about her past as she stands pleasing to your eye,
Like a bazillion stars lighting up the night sky.
But she's looking to the same sky and it's dull,
Like everything she's known behind her skull.
She doesn't cry out,
Not because of her doubt,
But whose really listening anyways,
While her heart is ablaze.
She only feels sorrow,
While she hopes for tomorrow.
So she can do with her beauty the only way that she knows,
In hope to find her other half, her blooming Rose.
