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A solitary rose in a garden lay Its flowers, the power to convey A desire, deep so deep to keep All other flowers to you asleep The gardener fixed on a solitary rose His eyes, the cries whenever they close When open, a rush so much they glow The mind a single stream does flow Ill-prepared to meet the day of doom When flowers wither, to address the gloom The gardener weeps and weeps the loss His life, his love has become his cross With no other flowers in the garden bed The garden, once life, now is dead No reason to live, to give its breath The gardener from grief prepares his death When you place all your grace in a solitary flower It's the flower, and not God, your higher power Be prepared to fall to fall from heights When only a flower occupies your nights |