Alone on the bed
Waits a lonely man
His pity will crushed
As the red sand of time
Running out on him
Whilst the rose
Once blossomed deep red
Now rot

Canopy bed
White sheet
Red blood
A knife

Streams of wine
At the corner of her mouth
Insane and laughing
Life is running out

Fire!
An inferno raising
And still
A rose is rotting