This is The Rose of Shadow's Peak,
Who dreams a dream so dreary and bleak,
And on this Rose,
There lies a thorn;
One for each lost hope that's born.

This Rose is colored the darkest black,
As dark and black as bold,
A black that represents the truth,
Of all the lies fortold.

This Rose is covered in drops of blood,
Of a shade the darkest red,
This Rose is covered in drops of blood,
For all the wrongfully dead.

The most awkward thing about this Rose,
The Rose of Shadow's Peak,
The most awkward thing about this Rose,
Is its dream so dreary and bleak.

This Rose so black and thorny,
With drops of crimson red,
This Rose's dream so dreary and bleak,
Is the dream of being dead.

He has suffered from the burden,
Placed on him by life,
And although he seems to be O.K.,
No one can see his strife.
This dream he dreamed,
So dreary and bleak,
Is closer, it may seem,
But he has just forgotten,
That death is but a dream...





 
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