There is such beauty in the unexplained
A feeling so grand that no words can do it justice
To have no satisfaction with anyone but one
To wear your heart on your sleeve and be overjoyed
To think and not think all at the same time
To trust someone with everything and nothing
To give up nothing and everything
To feel secure and vulnerable all at once
You are forever my mystery
There is such a beauty in the unexplained

We trade our sadness for sweetness
All our strength, for weakness.
But I guess, we need this
Were are to vulnerable

We die like a flower
Wilting hour by hour
Were sweet turned sour
And to way to vulnerable  

We take pleasure with the pain
Slowly becoming insane
Our hearts overstrained
Were are to vulnerabe

You say you believe in something
But irony says you don't
You build up your morals as your god
And then you slit his throat.
You've tarnished what is good and pure
Your fellow man betrayed
You've warped angels into monstrosities
All hope has decayed.

I am guilty for the words I never said
For nevering voicing every thought that ran through my head
For never kissing your supple lips before your head hit the bed
And For never being the guy that could of lead
I am guilty for letting these days pass by
For bringing a tear to your perfect eyes
For being the one that couldn't cry
And for letting the faultless ghost of you die.

I want to be the arms that hold you when you’re sad;
Your shoulder to cry on when times get bad.
I want to be the one who puts you into bed,
The one who’s arm rests between the pillow and your head.
I want to give you my jacket when you get cold
And be the one, who cares for you when you get old.
But if their comes a time when all of this ends
I’ll be happy knowing we’ll always be best friends.

I have anchored my roots on the shores of your heart
Fighting the tides of your past as we fell apart
In your desolate wasteland of sand I now sit
My flowers a bloom show no sign to quit
If your sands of passion allow me to grow
Then I will flourish to a point you only dream to know
But if you’re emotional shoals take their toll
Then I will pack up my red pedals and go.

Here I sit, silently suffocating by the hands of a ghost I used to call a friend.
Her red nails ever dripping with the fragile essence that once was,
And the image of her face, so elegantly haunting, has been burned upon my eyes forever.
As her hands grasp around my tender neck, all I can do is relive the past.
The good, the bad, the perfect, and the grotesque all culminate into one.
As I slip away, I begin to wonder if everything I know was solid truth,
or if it was all a simple ruse, strategically planned for her sick sadistic pleasure.
Now in the last seconds of my conscious state I know I’ll never be forgiven
For the things I did to generate your undying hate.