Her beauties masked by her dreaded sorrow.
The tears of her agony stain her cheek.
Lovely rose, somber as a wilt'd yarrow.
Beautiful rose, So strong, but yet so weak.

Such a dreadful sound, her soft weeps aloud,
Beautiful rose, shouldn't suffer such heartache.
Melancholy in her creates a shroud.
How far will her poor suffering heart break?

Does she even know, 'bout how much I care?
Will she ever acknowledge my worry?
Does she even know, she even aware?
Does sorrow make my love for her blurry?

But my love would be enough, cure her pain,
Only if allowed in her heart again.