Six feet under, she buries her love
Coffined in Balsa found not in sacred grove
A black rose, she carves on her heart’s mausoleum
A symbol of a love, forever imprisoned
He sees not the death of a love once his
He knows not of the girl’s anguished retreat
Shrouded by laughter, by friendship thus close
Her affection she seals, with regrets, with woes
Sometimes, it's for the best to remain as friends.
