The first Love was a rose,
Delicate and fine
She blossomed shily, sweetly
Maiden, made it mine
Quietly she grew
Fragile, fringed and frail
Sensation sensing new
Withstanding whirlwind hail
Faith and pride did nurture
As did strength and fear
Nought could ever hurt her
This to me was clear
Then one day, on a petal small
Gently lay a silver hue
On this beauty strong and tall
A drip drop drip of salty dew
The first Love was a rose,
But I chose not to see
The thorns , sharp swift swords
The bloodred rose was bleeding me
And it grew black as the pit
Drowned my heart in mourn'
On a rope, each bit of Hope
Till it died, one winter's morn'.
In the chambers of my heart,
My Love lay locked away
My rose, I never wish to part
Bittersweet be memory may.