Bed of Roses

The torn pieces of petals are lying on the floor beside the rose which had no red in it,

The colours of love were floating around mixed into despair,
The blood is flowing unstopped, forming a giant pool from the aftermath,
The clash has left nothing safe and everything is broken,
Even life is scared to enter much less leave shattered and shaken,
There is a slight murmur, a light heartbeat still fighting to survive,
The sword of reality lay still bear held by the fake world,
The walls of assumptions are high coloured with unfulfilled dreams,
The music of love still lingers on the hope clings dangling under the currents of change,
Sweetness of death grabs at the darkness while the light spits out to save life,
They all rush in riding on the horses of humanity carried on the shoulders of responsibility,
I am carried away pinched to stay drugged, knocked off the ladder of death,
Stitched up and switched into being human,
They all smile at me greeting me congratulating my loss,
The blood has dried and I am still here the only thing closer to me are my eyes,
The vision that captured my demise,
All else is secondary for all other is not mine to see,
I feel heavy as I fall in a deep sleep,
People think I am there but my body only carries the burden of me,
Trapped in the mountains and diving on the sea,
I am a lost wave fighting every current,
The feather carried on by the breeze,
Waiting for my hands to arrive so I can stay put and hold,
Even though my soul has already been sold,
My body is awake its alive even though all I feel is cold.