Bed of Black Roses (Kissing Stars)

Kissing the stars,

I can't imagine a death more


more loud and touching

than to die in the hands of

my love,

laying in my bed of

black roses,

red turns to death,

wallows in the pain

and grows with the tears

of the sorrowful


petals dance upon my lips,

as to chain me to the ground

by the belief's,

trying to let go and fly up the the blue


tasting the clouds I can't imagine,

my love,

being a part from you,

from your brow eyes

and black skin,

I could never imagine

cutting our ties just so that I could


nothing would make me even see the

sun if I couldn't

feel you,

laying there on the bed of

black roses


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