The Rose

Some say love - it is a river
that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love - it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love - it is a hunger
an endless aching need.
I say love - it is a flower
and you - it´s only seed.

It´s the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
It´s the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance.
It´s the one who won´t be taken
who cannot seem to be.
And the soul afraid of dying
that never learns to live.

When the night has been to lonely
and the road has been too long.
That you feel that love is only
for the lucky and the strong.
Just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows.
Lies the seed that with the sun´s love
in the spring, becomes the Rose.