A Rose

A rose was picked by a white dove
A rose we won't see again
A rose was plucked with no return
A rose that had so much more to learn

We will crave
And we will yearn
We'll dream the rose is free
We'll hope the rose is happy wherever it is

And we'll pray
We'll pray for the rose
For it's a spirit of a beloved one we lost
We'll pray for it to be the last rose to be taken