Midnight Rose

They met her under a willow bloom,
Dahlias spread under her feet,
Weeping for the scattered moonlight;
Not fit to move, She slept.

The plum trees grew wherever she walked,
And the sunset rose and fell.
The world wept for her tragedy and balked
At the guile of we slavers.

We saw fit to shackle her beauty;
A gift for kings and queens.
We hurt inside so much we went loony...
And her tears did continue to spill.

We had come to a the river;
Run kingdom, red and gold.
To sell her off to the lord of the castle.
Our sweet Owari rose.

The night did fall in glorious majesty...
But she cried and cried and cried...
So she pricked her thumb on nearby thorn
And cried and cried and died.


ISA