I lay here dying
In a field of roses
Trapped between the void
Of light and darkness
Crying tears of blood
Wishing you were here
I pick up a rose
Holding it in my gloved hands
Slowly it turns to ashen black
Slipping between my fingers
Like my heart
I close my eyes
For the last time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem