I saw a rose between the grass,
I saw fragile beauty - like a glass.
She was growing like a desire grows,
and she died like the feeling blows.
I saw your face like a piece of art,
beautiful, even if it was just a cart.
But I loved it sice the very first time,
not to love you, was the biggest crime.
I saw you like the roses in the flames,
destroyed by the falsest games,
you was sorrowful and withered,
it was my fault that you out bled.




