Such devious ways to deceive them with wit. A sweet word to gain access to their soft wrists. To press to the rose flesh two false-speaking lips and offer the slim veins the slightest of a kiss.
With passion consuming the consumate prize, I chase the sweet angel with beautiful lies. I must for she has put such light in my eyes that to lose her would be the whole loss of my life. In her hands I’ve placed every dream I could write. In her ears I’ve whispered each secret delight. In her mind I’ve carved a small place of my own. Her heart is a domain I’d like to call home. I’d live there and dream there and never be gone. I’d slide through her dreams where I’d die to belong. I would try a cool razor to my petaled wrists and a rose would emerge I would press to her chest. This moist flower of intention I would offer as proof that, although I may lie, my desire is the truth. My cool words of detachment have been a safe place. I’ve used tall walls of words to hide the pain on my face. I’ve used brave, gallant professions to hide the disgrace of the failure I’ve been in a life of mistakes.
So in honour of all of the glory she brings when she opens her heart and my dreams all pour in, I will draw forth the flower which I’ve held in my veins for the sweetest of women who is the sweetest of things. Please let this world spare me for the showing of need; this world with respect only for savagery and greed. My heart is a soft one, now I hope she will see. And maybe, just maybe, send a rose back to me. Joined in heart with blood as one for the rest of all eternity. And if she’ll have me to her side for what is true and not the lies I can swear for my whole life to be her arms until time dies. Forever until time does break, I pray for her my heart to take.