Black Roses Surround This Bed Where I Lay

Black Roses Surround This Bed Where I Lay

Curious to the thought of a wasted amend
trapped in a rope, quivering to the thought of an end
placed before the sign of love, trickling down a vine of death
we call the deeds as their own, the stars now align to the site of red
slightly amused, stuttering whispers that create a coolness in your veins
while only one voice may shade the stillness of a drowning beat
capturing each moment that once held a thought
stressing each emotion where only heartache had been brought
a halo now seeks out a fault, arises to a new prey
casting a demon out, shaken to realize the meaning
a purpose, such as one's own, brought to attention so subtle, yet crazed
black roses now surround a sorrowful bed, only pain is now kept in this bed I may lay