Violets arent blue
but roses are red
dont listen to the voices in your head
the roses are wilted
the violets are dead
and you just want to curl up in your bed
go get new violets
and try to water those roses
while the hole in your heart
slowly closes

A violins Song can be heard in the crisp morning air.
Its owner has pink, strawberry milk, hair.

his tusks, long and pointed like the ax on his back.
his resolve may waver but it will never crack.

the kindness that's given he returns tenfold
and the injustice he returns can not be controlled.

Though he wants peace, others call for blood.
and with their chants, his head will flood.

He knows peaceful Government is just a facade
So now it is time for Blood for the blood god.

A charming young man on a boring old day
Sat with his guitar, and began to play.

His angelic wings cushioned his back.
So soft and pure, in color, they did not lack.

His calloused hands plucked at the strings.
The notes that he played were such beautiful things.

The notes and the scales would soon evolve into a song.
written on the air... It would not last long.

A song that would never be matched again.
Each day, his songs were different but the same

Each song held a purpose, whatever it was.
It was up to the listener to interpret its cause.

She screamed to the heavens, and not a soul called back.
She was utterly alone, and she was grateful for that.

A horrible turn to have when trapped.
A feathered arrow, tied with precision and care lodged in her back.

Although pain was not something she lacked.
she thought she would die, and to her, that's a fact.

The sound of snow crunching from someone unknown.
Told her that she was no longer alone.

Her newfound companion wanted her blood.
When she saw their figures all she thought was "Crud".

I cannot give any more.
I cannot give any more.
But my whole personalities built around "kindness"
and if I cant give then I'm what?
Stuck?
So let's work this out,
whats wrong with your heart?
It won't come out,
no, it won't even start
and then moving on, what's wrong with your brain?
It yearns for the past, but it won't be the same.
it's clear to see you've got a disease.
What's the disease?
Well, its called Empathy.
It means you'll give blood till there's none left to bleed.
But I do not want to be kind!
What?
I only want to survive,
No, this efforts exhausting it's getting me nowhere
and where does that leave me? Alone.
You do not have a choice.
The honey slips into your voice
kindness flows through your veins
and its something that cannot be changed
caring is what fulfills you
lear to harness it before it kills you.

When I first saw you
in my heart I knew you were the one.
But I fought the feeling.
Now you are the feeling.

when I looked into the sky,
I saw your face in the stars.
And, now you are the stars.

Oh, the thrill of the chase as we soar
through the air
With our home up ahead and the wind
in our hair
As we draw ever closer, my friend
gives a shout
but then comes a net and I am
knocked out.