In the home where life did lie there is a single rose
He sits there in the corner eerily tall and high
Happy of a place to stay though he is all alone
Forever to wait and always to cry.

Mornings do seem dry and dreary all he does is moan
But evenings grew better as a woman walked by
And as the day past him he was weary to the bone
He saw the girl had silver in her eye.

But on a rainy day she entered the beautiful abode
Halting in the entrance to dry her soaking hair
There she saw a painting it looked to be a code
So old it was to be so rare.

The lovely girl walked up the winding staircase
And down the dark lit hall to stop in front a book
She walked into a room to see a blackened vase
Sitting through him was a little hook.

She removed the long lingering metal piece
And set it to side knowing he was unharmed
For she now knew the roses pain would cease
He knew that somehow he was charmed.

The lady remained by his side until he were to die
He knew at last he was not by himself
For he loved a lady who did not look at him and sigh
She sat beside him on the shelf.

And so the story of the single silver rose is told
What they failed to reveal you will not deem
She became a single rose of pure gold
And together they are but a dream.