The Rose

Some say love it is a river

That drowns the tender reed.

Some say love it is a razor

That leaves your soul to bleed.



Some say love it is a hunger

An endless, aching need

I say love it is a flower,

And you it's only seed.



It's the heart afraid of breaking

That never learns to dance

It's the dream afraid of waking

That never takes the chance



It's the one who won't be taken,

Who cannot seem to give

And the soul afraid of dying

That never learns to live.



And the night has been too lonely

And the road has been too long.

And you think that love is only

For the lucky and the strong.



Just remember in the winter

Far beneath the bitter snow

Lies the seed that with the sun's love,

In the spring, becomes a rose.


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