Apathemy
Gardens To Graveyards (The Most Delicate Blossom)
As the most delicate blossoms wither and die I lay here empty handed half finished Until my end Pale moonlight washes over my body Aching to leave this place Promises of forever still hanging heavy in the air You told me this wouldn't happen These flowers would never die Petals fall She loves me Petals fall She loves me not Gardens to graveyards mocked by the dead I would've died for you And you would have let me die Dragging bones through the wilted petals Unearthing old ghosts to remind me of what I lost Open my wrists on the jagged thorns of good intentions and paint the withered petals red
From Letras Mania