The rose

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns a 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 the flower
And you, it’s humble 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 taking
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul, afraid of dying
That never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong

Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lies a seed that with the sun’s love
In the spring becomes the rose