I am an original depart
I am a diasspointing rose
one of thorns and no beautiful petalls
shivering with the cold shivering in the distance
of a series run dry
no compost to feed my eye
torn and bruised from the ground up
I am a broken flower bleeding rust
rust of metallic scent
of an evil dream
lust of a nightmare that always gleams
desire is a contest I can never win
and yet Iprepare i prepare with sin
passion is a drama i yearn to feel
but roses will die and petals will peel
from the acidic contents of a dying rose
my soul begins to hurt me
my soul begins to ask for its wishes........
my soul begins to wake......
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