saints_and_sinners za staring up at those dead death roses, so yellow can fade from its sunshine, red blood can coagulate and dry brown, my heart tremor makes me want to break, fracture dry petals by exact touches, those roses were not those given in love, just brief beauty stolen recklessly, knowing they would fade and planning, for them to be just as they are. 030102 what's it to you? who go blather from