Used to be lilies in your eyes
Now they ring a bell of hate

I remember calling you dearly but still you perpetrate..
Love is a cloak and dagger type of thing..
Apparently..

The cloak will smell of roses..
And not of casualties..

The knife is sharp..
Sharp as it can be
Accessing the places those unbonded couldn't see..

Taking from the tree without intentions to eat..
Draining me of love
so love i can't repeat..