Zacanda As the rose petal leaks its beauty, the thorn comsumes the passion of which was once a love for life which no one can know, for it has been stripped away. Every wounded petal, every tear that's dropped, every heart that's shattered, all opportunities destroyed. With faded beauty and bitter fragrance the feeling is lost. No hope is here, no love is found, no joy is kept, all is drained and left with the epmtiness of sorrow. 010921
distorted tendencies I stabbed my finger upon a thorn. It didn't stop bleeding. 010921
sphinxradio as the thorns that covered the castle...
oh, these sleeping spells

one hundred years, nothing more to report than the dreams that never happened.

"you're sleeping," they told her when the phone wasn't ringing, back in the day.

stay on your guard, lovely.

the years fall by and dragons haunt you.
chock chock chili if you'd get that fucking thorn out of your side, maybe we could have some fun. 020120
parfum The boy with the thorn in his side
behind the hatred there lies
a plundering desire for love
sandra The thorn, it has always been here with us, you and I, soul mates, lovers of the mind, sex a thing not to ever waste, we never have and the thorn you are is a pleasant and welcome addition to my emptiness, never leave me, your spirit i beg to always have in me, the thorn it has stopped being a pain and the blood is yours. 050224
Mister Brightside too many more than roses through my torn and bloody hands 050224
what's it to you?
who go