There is a mystery in the rose,
one which has never been told;
I know her secret,
for she is the first flower.

Give the rose to Mary,
for this is war;
and the rosary is your weapon.

The children who are under you,
protect them with your life;
they look up to you,
so become worth looking up to.

They do not look up to me,
for I have become hidden;
but they look up to you,
so become worth looking up to.

Shots have been fired,
and the world now goes to war;
you are fighting for your children,
and it is yours to keep them safe.

I have my own children to care for,
so I give these unto you;
fight for these, my children,
and you shall be forever mine.

Choose the red dress,
wear the dress of martyrdom;
the dress of a true mother,
one who protects her young.

Where we go, no one comes.

©2026 Sayori Yǔ