Torture by Roses

Lost the will?
A germ in foreign blood
A glimmer of the past
Power and misery
Pathetic whore
To the ignorance of life
This is the best
It will ever be
Think of the things
That will never be
Sorrow, the empty well?
Hollow and useless
Consume to the inside
Something I will not hide
My love wilts on
My comrade in tragedy
This is the best
It will ever be
Think of the things
That will never be
Your image is burnt
You are dead
You are nothing
Yes, I love you