Upon the rose wreaths lies a breath,
A simple pray for happiness.
A note left behind in a moment of care,
From someone who was deeply aware.
Aware of the torment that was endured,
Aware that this person, slow but sure,
Had endeavoured to fight,
Keep on surviving,
In order to serve one right.
But this figure was alone and scared,
And so completely ensnared,
That they gave up the battle.
Unaware of the person who would lay upon the rose wreaths a breath,
Filled with a simple prayer of happiness.
