My body has carried roses on its skin,
let the thorns dig into my flesh,
I never felt a thing,
I smelled the heavens though,
they smell like red roses glimmering in the sun.

I touched Allah and he said I haven’t bled enough,
he put 10 roses on my back and told me to fly,
but the thorns had cut my wings,
“Allah I can no longer fly.”
“Haven’t I drowned enough stones and carried enough flowers?”

He didn’t see the pain in my eyes,
because the pain was not enough for him,
every rose he made me deliver showed me deeper suffering,
my pains never been enough,
my pain will never be enough.

He just wanted me to see how deep, bad truly seeps,
into the blood of innocent people,
washing over their every inch,
no sin could ever break them,
when there’s nothing left to break.