The Last Rose There is a hill which blooms roses bright. Roses of all colours, pink,red and White. A hill which before industry vibrantly thrived. A hill destined to forever continue alive. A hill thrown into machines, factories and pain. A hill which sacrificed nature for a stranger's game. When the shrubs overgrow and the leaves turn the colour of rust, I will climb the hill and pick the last Rose for you in love and in lust. Through the stormy weather and heavy mist. The last fighting Rose, rain yet sun kissed, Will stay there for me to take. A Rose which will present beauty and power which no #life could brake.
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