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'With Every Lie I Say,
My Rose Wilts Away.'
Habit,
It Is The Doom Of Me,
I Can Not Break It,
Nor Stop It,
It Shall Continue,
Until My Rose,
Is Fully Gone,
Only A Few More Petals,
Until The Truth Spills Out,
What To Do Till That Time?
...
I Do Not Know...
...
Will You Still Hold Me Dear,
When You Learn Of The Hidden Truth?
Or Throw Me Away,
Ashamed That You Have Trusted Me?
...
I Am Not Strong,
I Am Weak...
...
I Can't See Him Alone...
Can You Come With Me?