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The Cursed Rose
From her thorn bush grave
deep within a mountain cave
she called me from my dreams
none could forget those screams
a hero I was not; a poor maiden nor was she
but I knew she hath chosen me
I would follow where her dark eyes bid
in silence wondered what the roses hid
her voice was silk to hide the pain
and her blood fell like the rain
dressed in vines she looked a bride forlorn
I knew forever to her I was sworn
the light of day I would be denied
but no more to myself will I have lied
we all have known the kiss of the Blossom Queen
8:41 AM - 2/26/2007 -
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