Seep into me, my new Rose,
Be the one I actually chose.
Not some ill fate.
Come into me, before it’s too late.

The first time there was a concert in my chest,
Now there is nothing behind this lonely breast.
Where fire once burned with passion,
There now lied ashed ashen.

When I think of the red mist of night,
My mind tells me to either flee or fight.
I know love as not something to die for,
Instead she taught me that it is far worse than war.