The bloody rose

She has herself closed

The prickly vine

He has crossed the line

I try to find them

I try to stop them

A gun she finds

The metal that shines

A rope he will get

Where the ends met

I run faster through the dark

Running swiftly, like a shark

The gun she places to her head

The grass...her final resting bed

The rope is hanging from the tree...

And also there...is he.

So there lies she,

And here hangs he...

Along with them.

Goes a part of me.