quick to be consumed by desire 

even quicker to be assumed a liar

lust as it is, begins to devour us

and the passion we ultimately create is ours, my love

look at what you've made me do... 

I've cut my fingertips on rose thorns 

especially for you 

now... this affair has left me scorned 

and I hope to never have a lover like this again 

for I am reborn 

this causes reason for no more sin 

and my soul is as cold as it has ever been 

runaway with me... into the thickening dark, we will not be seen 

because I have slit the throat of day and watched it bleed into night

to insist I do not fantasize of you, is a lie that is blindingly white 

I cannot help myself

I am on the third bottle of Rosé upon the shelf 

until the dawn brings us together again, my dear

I will be immersed entirely in my fear 

of losing you 

and the emotions that were never true