Poems

Roses and bed

The rose is calling you
Like the snow during winter
But you want to sleep, don't you?
No need to worry, it won't make it harder

I see you're coming closer
Do you want to take it?
No, it would be prettier
Still alive, in the form of a flower

Then, why is the rose fading to black
And slowly turning into stone
As you're falling down asleep
In your bed made of roses?

Oh, I got it! The rose was never here.
I guess you were asleep all along
Then maybe you should wake up and hurry
Before the death comes to visit your tomb

Elo-

(Yeah, this one is pretty shitty)