Oh I have the beautiful roses,
The roses of my love.
Yes the same love which I crave for the most.
It's in the darkest shade of red.

My heart, it bled so much for that love.
The thorns, they pierced my soul.
I ruined myself in every possible way,
Just to attain that love.

But, I wonder, was I really able to feel love?
I always yearned for those roses of affection;
They were as red as my love.
But, is the red on them, love or is it blood?
I guess it was always the blood, not the love.

Cause every time I saw them they reminded me of the wounds and scars of mine,
Yes the scars that came from the same love I craved for.
And those wounds bled so much that they turned the love of mine red.