You could smell the sickness every time you took a breath,
Sadly here animals stalked their prey, the daughters of man,
For a hungry and lustful soul, is hard to stop from whence it began.
I heard the cries of those souls who were tortured each night,
Yet the truest pain to them was beyond my worldly sight.
Young flowers taken with grimy hands to have their pedals torn,
Their beauty tainted countless times they wish they were never born,
Ravaged by the clawing fingers that wanted only to tear the flesh,
Until every part of their souls are turned into a sorrowful and hateful mesh,
Can you hear the cries of the roses screaming for an end to it all,
And at the end of each day on scarred hands and knees do they crawl.
Open your eyes, Oh people who do not have to live as livestock,
Where you're blessed souls fly as if part of a giant and graceful flock,
Listen and know the pain that is caused as you lie safe in your beds,
Think of the nightmares that do not haunt your sweet little heads,
Stop and pray that the Enemy will stop sending his blackened Crows,
For they come and feed on the hearts and souls of the Wild Rose.
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