Path of the Rose

By Matthew Patterson

When the world showed me nothing but sadness and fear
And I'd lost all the hope that my Prince would appear,
I was fought for and vied for and named as a prize
In a plot to gain power through deceit and lies.

One lust-maddened Victor thought I was his to strike – 
He found himself beat with a thin wooden pike.
You challenged him, battled him, his rose tore apart:
By defeating my "master," you captured my heart.

I gave service to you and I made myself yours.
You defended my rights in a series of wars.
Yet even to one who was always always so kind,
No witch would reveal the dark plans in her mind.

You still kept on fighting, the power to claim;
You conquered the council that ruled in His name.
I prayed to my Prince that you'd fall into vice
So I could escape freedom and avoid its harsh price.

But you did not falter, and so with grave heart
I betrayed you and hoped your rose would fall apart.
But that Prince whom I once tried so hard to revive
Put your soul back together and kept you alive.

The power you stole from the Devil's two hands.
With that strength borne of roses, you escaped to new lands.
I accepted the burden that freedom does wreak 
And fled from the tempter, my true prince to seek.

And the thorns of the rose, they do prick at my hand
As I clutch it and trudge through this forgotten land;
But its scent is a promise that cuts through the pain:
That we can be one day together again.


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