A lover's name is the winter rose, with a
Heart encrusted in thorns,
One the day that my love gave this heart
To me, it was all other men that mourn.
Though I pr*ck my finger and spill my blood,
You are the stars that paint my sky,
Without my love I would spill every drop,
And all but lay down and die.
The love we share is a love of ice, cold
As the veins in your arm.
And the storm that rages with your
Every breath, is a storm only I can calm.
With each petal as spectacular as the
One that came before,
And though you think I love you now, I
Could love you so much more
