A rose is a rose, in a field of daisies
Giving off such a sweet scent
Though one might thing that it belongs
It stands alone, that to be is meant

A rose is a rose, in a field of violets
Still ever with them a flower
Yet alone, it still does stand sweet
No matter the day, no matter the hour

A rose is a rose, alone on the plains
Grass around it does sway
A plant as they are, you can, I think see
Still a rose all the way

A rose is a rose, such a lovely plant
A lovely view, a flower
Yet despite its belonging and being
All these, a rose is a rose in its power

Penned by my hand on the 16th of Ero, in the year 713 AF.