Wake one morning
while the sky is still
and the night lingers
just a bit
sun crepps up slowly
easy over the hill
a new day close behind
but not promised to me
lately nothing
has been new
lately nothing
has been fine
i still try to find
find her
give the only gift i can
the only scrap of me left
a black rose with no flower
sharp and stinging thorns
with no beauty to protect
it grows in a grey garden
where death is born
springing forth something dark
and cold
it posseses my
fears of old
now drifting back
sink to unconciousness
dreams haunted by her eyes
piercing my soul
an inch at a time
withering crushing my spine
my lungs plagued
breathing this black air
slowly they drip
its love i lack
while i stand at her door
remembering its her
i adore
force my last fake smile
hating myself all the while
she opens the door
and peers out
but finds nothing
is about
i have already left
and i have left behind
my last parting gift
since my life went to shit
ill lay it upon her bed
soft next to her pretty head
in my final hour
a black rose with no flower
a black rose with no flower.....


 
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