The Black Rose

In a field full of roses I want to lie 

 Down on my back to look at the sky 

 Mountains of clouds dropping the rain 

 Flooding my eyes, washing my pain. 

 And as I get up and start to walk 

 I step on the roses as light’s getting dark. 

 I’m searching the one so special to me 

 The one that is standing alone and is free 

 I search desperately turning around 

 I search for a sign, a light or a sound 

 I feel the soft petals caressing my skin 

 As thorns carve my legs, I’m bleeding within. 

 Surrounded by roses as red as my blood 

 I’m suddenly drowning in blood, tears and mud 

 But mud, tears and blood won’t stop me to see 

 To find the black rose, my reason to be.