The First Rose

When ideals were shattered and fire surged

And the past was at last exhumed,

Out of a crumbling world emerged

A garden where roses bloomed.

There were plenty of briars, brambles and thorns,

To besiege the wills of the brave,

But amidst the ruins, a flower was born

That blossomed with petals grave.

Alone I would stand to nurture the rose

With the memories of ages past

When all feelings lay in shadows

And all love had breathed its last.

Then, from the past, the future came

And gave the rose its angry red;

No two petals were quite the same

As never the same had two drops of blood bled.

There in the garden, a single rose grew

With the vibrance of a passionate heart;

After calm fell, it gave us in lieu

A chaos so wondrous, an old place to start