Swords And Roses
Do We Bleed Not, In That We Love
As Blades, As Roses, Time Is As Fleeting As A Dove
And As The Sand Sifts The Moments Out The Hourglass
And Love Finds It's Way, Just As The Blade Swinging In Inertial Mass
F=m a , This The Sword Knows
For Passionate Lovers, In War, In Crowns With Thorns
Where The Sweet Scents Of Affection Serenade The Soul
Just As Battle Scars From Pangs Of War,
Yet, Nothing Truly Is Ever Lost
When You Turn Pain To Bards,
Whether Battlefields Or Romance, Matters Not
Wounded By The Cold Piercing Steel Tip Of Fraught,
And The Mists Of Time Take It's Course
And The Memories Are Stained With Pricks And Bones,
With Life Comes Lessons, Regressions And Discourse
In Symphonies Of Valor And Heartbreak And Remorse,
Nothing Unfettered, Nothing Gained, In Devotion, In Lament With Swords
Through Friendships, Through Amours
So Bend the Will Of Hatred And Anger Like A Scimitar, Lay Down The Glaive
And Plant The Seed For Better Days
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