Hospitable and delighting demeanor turns to blood strings within no time,
spring leaves appear to be forsakening breath by all...
for the truth in me and my life is crime.

Injustice will be done,
a massacre is what i wish for, though the void never transposes..
This is my true home now,
the asylum of roses...

Its just a mile away
lost heaven not far away until i lose your touch...
rusted hands coming closer for a kill..
as it goes by the order of this profane world
which had to offer so much...

Thorns are much pleasureable now,
cutting my skins through,
I'm doll so unkind and cursed
here's a word and this ends too.
ROSES....................


© ANIKET