kaze_krazy
08-26-2007, 07:16 PM
Black Rose
A Black Rose, lying on the table
Whose memory did it hold?
None will know of the pain, the lives it held, only a fable. . .
The truth of death and memories; every word left untold
Who remembered them? Who still does?
Joys long lost, hopes long forgotten. . .
Everything left in shadows, in the eyes of lost loves,
And it seems the skies will darken.
A cross, standing beside the way.
I wonder who lied fitful there, dead among the rubble.
Who did they call 'love', only to find Hell to pay?
A lover's words, standing beside the grave, mumbled.
It comes to show what all will lead to,
In this game we call a life.
What will become of us, of you?
Heaven or Hell, what's left behind - a loved one's strife?
What will matter - in the end? . . .
A Black Rose, lying on the table
Whose memory did it hold?
None will know of the pain, the lives it held, only a fable. . .
The truth of death and memories; every word left untold
Who remembered them? Who still does?
Joys long lost, hopes long forgotten. . .
Everything left in shadows, in the eyes of lost loves,
And it seems the skies will darken.
A cross, standing beside the way.
I wonder who lied fitful there, dead among the rubble.
Who did they call 'love', only to find Hell to pay?
A lover's words, standing beside the grave, mumbled.
It comes to show what all will lead to,
In this game we call a life.
What will become of us, of you?
Heaven or Hell, what's left behind - a loved one's strife?
What will matter - in the end? . . .