Whats not there to find
There was no shine to your precious bloom
Was it every really there
Or was it the touch of Fair that brought life to you

No magic no stardust no moonbeam shine
Just a smattering of dust layered by time
Oh where for art thou romance thee called thy name
For nothing did pass of your past fleeting flame

Your rose from past pressed
No fragrance at all
Just the brittle smell of death
With no flavored recall

Ah Esora it seems you've lost the smell to your nose
And now pass for a poor imitation of what once was a rose
How old and dry your presence seemed to me
You've lost your shine of what romance is I see

Dating death makes you cold
You've lost the flame of your night
Or perhaps it was never there
And you could only see through my sight