Archangel, my wine spills forth, I am dying once again, spare me the pain of the flesh, i am fighting for my heart untamed, i am modivated to hunt, to kiss her once more, but the wolf in me is weakening for the sunlight we abhore, of dark roses we are wedded, ironic is it not? that of dark roses she is beheaded, as i am nailed to the cross, the twisted nails of faith have pierced my veins, i watch her bleed and die as i pray under the rain "oh archangel, grant me thy strength, to punish her killers and damn them to luciferian lament", and so my spirit departs, to regain her bleeding heart, to slay those wrethced demons that split us apart, all to regain her love that i so desperately need, so i carry these dark roses that ease my heart that bleeds
