I stand in the midst of swirling sand
of this arid and sun-ravaged land,
I hold in my hand a vibrant rose
from this harsh sun I shielded it close.
A solitary rose; yet how did it wilt
right in my hand that I feel guilt--
Oh God, did I embrace it too close?
Why was I not able to save my red rose,
Petal by petal it fell apart on the ground
breaking my heart asunder but nary a sound;
A measly flower-- is that all you see?
A whimsical notion, a foolhardy task of me!

I kissed this denuded stem with my undying love,
Damnation has befallen like a lightning from above
and the heavens stood by as my love lay dying
while I was weeping, while I was crying.
Thus let me this much to you all assure—
Never will I lay my hand on a thing so pure;
Yet, if all my lofty hopes dissipate erelong
I stand guilty I confess, oh I did do wrong.
I was a fool; it was but a frivolous scheme
A rose to bloom in wilderness was my dream!