A single white rose
Sits on the lonely mantle
In a vase without any water
A memory of a love gone past
A fire burns within the hearth
The flames are dancing
Yet slowly dying
A memory of a flame now dead
The rose is wilting
This beautiful white rose
So elegant and pure
A single drop of blood
Falls from the rose
A crimson tear of pain
Once so beautiful and pure
Now stained forever with the blood of hate
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