Raise an alarm in the greenhouse,
For the blooming rose wilts and Withers.
She who once stood out proudly from among the ferns,
Vivid red and luscious green,
Every morning, singing sweet melodies of nature's love and gaia's blessing,
Once full of hope and brimming with life,
Now lies desolate; a princess in mourning,
On her head a crown of decay.
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