Thy love, I gather the thorns for thee To speak the scars, sad many.... they are They bleed their palms across thy face They are the tears I wish to shed Yet only tears of red shall fall On this night, on your grave The scent of dried flowers, rest upon the palls As night graces rose garlands black For bleak laurels of dead lilies and thorns Hang so silently still upon walls draped in ornate d**h Wailing in sighs deep and forlorn In mourning I wish only to corrupt the silence Cold marble reflections of dreams lucid in sorrow A vision of beauty that forever sleeps I am the one who regrets Her loss, her love, the wasted years For time withers away her ghost And I live only to collect her tears To lament the memory of her laugh For her breath is still held close to thee Yet she sleeps so still in thy arms Yet thy kiss falls harsh on her lips I am nothing yet I am, I am everything yet still I yearn Let these bleak thorn laurels honor the vast sorrow I have endured The sad cypress sings of black star lit nights Caressed by the crescent moon's blood red hue Let the petals fall upon this sullen path For nature's sweet kiss knows your song of tragedy