stop haunting me..i killed you in my mind!
as autumn now dawns in my eyes,
death's entering my lungs, tying my heart down
bringing me onto my knees on the half-frozen ground.

i'm the hostage of a ghost, victim of his disdain,
with my own will ive cursed myself as to inherit pain.
no love has ever been pure nor has it been forgiven the sin..
i plan the day i shall return..i fantasize of life again..

ill defeat the misty sky that forbad our dawning trip
and rise from hell..the one thats ravagingin my soul..
this hell shelters the portrait of an old hope
i sacrificed my soul for a non-existent human god
only for the sheer pleasure of my naivity..

and as blood becomes a nuisance on the petals of a rose,
you cut inside and hide the pain, all deep within.
and cut inside in the core of its being, until it blossoms in sorrow
dew embraces the embodied pain, limping in beauty and glean.
no night nor moon have ever touched its skin, no sun has dared to follow..

..the rose that kept itself as virgin, and swore to venerate the darkness.
..beautiful rose arisen from mud, a star in the darkness of night.
..such beautiful rose in the mud, but pick it up you will not want.
..beautiful rose in the mud, pales in the hands of the evil god.

in a mass of roses in mud, this rose is not the one for your bucket..
springing from hell, the rose's beauty is not of its nature divine.
yet, a stranger from mud picked it up
and took it from earth high, very high above
took it to the gate of the heavens, but dropped it again in the mud.

all pain burst in flames of tears and blood entwined,
locking the memories in the rose's heart.
what's earthly cannot touch the divine soul, for it will be forsaken.
all earthly quests lie in the hands of gods who play and mingle with our fate.

a rose of summer died alone, dropping its petals,fell in hell.
and spread and scattered in drops of blood, the blood to god be given.
pagan ritual of our hearts, pagan love and pagan hope enslaved me
no life has ever grown back, for death in its eternality is dreary.

a rose to be forgotten by its angel, for roses are but ephemeral
and ethereal dreams and memories still long in the dead corpse of the rose.
waters shall fall and princes arrive to revive its youth
but as death's irrevocable sentence has set, there shall be no future.

nov. 2007