My Rose

I come to my garden every day to visit my rose.

What would I give for my rose, my precious rose?

My very breath.

Though her sins are like scarlet, I shall once again make her white, more radiant than she ever was before.

My words shall anoint her petals like the dew on the grass.

The fire shall not harm her, for she will be hidden by me, in the shadow of my wings.