Guilty pleasures
some to treasure
but if it is not returned
then both parties
feel sometimes burned

Blood drips from thorns
the beautiful rose bloom
is sometimes the most painful

The piranha swirl on the first blood drop
like a switch turned on that cannot stop
bezerkers with blood lust on attack
once it starts hard to take back

Pain it shapes us
it can be seen
destroying our hopes and dreams
holes ripped into our hearts
then the bleeding really starts
the dripping red of our life blood
puddles up in a flowing flood
it leaves a trail far and near
much like the tracks of falling tears

So death in silence
no bell to toll
now I go on a lonely stroll
exploring purgatory I go
following a rivers flow
the scythe of the reaper
cuts with finality much deeper

Frozen tears that never fall
fill the heart and clog the hall
emotions stuck deep inside
of the wounded, they keep the stride
the time has run out, there is no more
everybody heads towards the door

The past once done is set in stone