And in the heart of darkness we will see the need for light, |
Trust someone and be betrayed, |
My conflicting desire, |
Depression may not be a fatal disease, |
Upon my grave lies not a rose, for none remember my name, |
With my fingertips I would trace out my heart, |
Your death would kill me, |
I will nurture the thorns around my heart with the tears you caused me. |
This smile for once hides not the shame, |
My soul is a well grown over with briars, |