Bleak Thorn Laurels

Thy love, I gather the thorns for thee

To speak the scars, sad many.... they are

They bleed their palms across thy face

They are the tears I wish to shed

Yet only tears of red shall fall

On this night, on your grave

The scent of dried flowers, rest upon the palls

As night graces rose garlands black

For bleak laurels of dead lilies and thorns

Hang so silently still upon walls draped in ornate death

Wailing in sighs deep and forlorn

In mourning I wish only to corrupt the silence

Cold marble reflections of dreams lucid in sorrow

A vision of beauty that forever sleeps

I am the one who regrets

Her loss, her love, the wasted years

For time withers away her ghost

And I live only to collect her tears

To lament the memory of her laugh

For her breath is still held close to thee

Yet she sleeps so still in thy arms

Yet thy kiss falls harsh on her lips

I am nothing yet I am, I am everything yet still I yearn

Let these bleak thorn laurels honor the vast sorrow I have endured

The sad cypress sings of black star lit nights

Caressed by the crescent moon's blood red hue

Let the petals fall upon this sullen path

For nature's sweet kiss knows your song of tragedy