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i feel it slipping..
..i dont want to bleed from my heart anymore...
..painful heart...they bleed me as i were roses to them...
...and they silt my throat with its thorns..
where are you?....my bleeding rose...
the white roses of this world are beautiful
the colour of pain..
will these roses never know true beauty from this colour?
my blood stains and turns the white roses red
for you i would drain myself so every rose would have as much beauty as you
they will be but a bleeding rose
i am but their creator
as i show you the beauty of a bleeding rose
from my painful heart...