Blood of the Art
Pools of sorrow hidden deep in her eyes,
through every night and day she fills herself with lies.
Her brothers are right there but seem so far away
for on the path she's chosen, alone she must stay.
Heart of hers now filled with sorrow and pain,
so much she can lose, so little to gain.
Hollow and empty now, so very incomplete
will it be love, or be it hate she goes to meet?
The confusion 'round her grows ever more,
soon from her, the hate shall start to pour.
There shall be no savior, this is hers alone
shall she end up as naught but a clone?
The black of the rose, blood of the art
you will see now what truly lies in her heart.
Now you are warned, forever stay clear
for deep down, you shall find her endless fear.
