Warriors Of Romance

we're the warriors of romance, roses tattooed to our skins

clenching pencils tight we wait for battle to begin.

reality's upon us and the fields are glowing red

there's nothing we won't die for cause this life itself is dead



and i choose to hold my ground and fight



recalling back to once upon a time, deep in a dream

when someone spoke of love, i didn't ask 'what do you mean?'

it's a magic in the air, transcending tangibility

i know that it still calls you cause it screams inside of me



there's something left in this dream



~ there's a darkness closing in

through damage in our armour, it sinks into our skin

this coldness takes it away, that which makes us free

it's something i won't accept, no power over me.



a rose buries it's thorns into a cemetery yard

it's thorns are long and twisted and it's stem is thin and dark

though it's pedals shine on in the gothic reverie

the death that feeds it's light is that of creativity.



And I choose to hold my ground and fight