A rose is a rose, always wild
Though fettered and chained
Spirit resides in its petals,
The magic, the magnificent beauty contains.
A rose is a rose, is dead or alive
The beauty remains
Though the color may fade,
The celestial strength still resides.
A rose is a rose,
It can never be tamed,
The passion of freedom,
The fire of strength
As hard as one may try, it can not be contained.
A rose is a rose, and so it must be:
And eternally free.