Endless fields of red roses. Their delicateness seared by their own despair, turn into ash and flake away into the winds. They scar the sky with their sorrow, making the clouds black with their self-hatred. It rains the blood of their unheard anguish. The shadow consumes the earth and bears bitter-sweetly down. The requiem of the immolated creatures beckoning my soul to come and kiss the heavens, as their very breath stains the earth crimson.

I gaze upward into them, into my reflection, and cry. I reach out to myself and know that there is only nothing. I collapse upon the ground and the mirror of the sky shatters. And the shards of glass, so beautiful as they fall. I let myself slip away into the dripping black velvet veil of darkness.

I can hear your footfalls as you come running out of a cold hollow hell to save me. I feel your arms wrap around my nearly lifeless body and your kiss. I feel your warm tears splash upon my face and one of my own tumbles down my cheek.

The flowers, the flowers, the red rose . . .

“This time, this pain is too deep, even for you.” My gasp echoes into the impending shadow. You hold me closer and I watch myself die in your arms and feel your suicide as you felt mine.



The flowers, the flowers, the crimson rose . . .

The flowers, the flowers, the red . . .

And we dance together in the sky . . .