When thy rose fell

from the sky on high

One would wonder

why thy rose fell

Who would but throw away a beauty, thy rose.

Looking on high, I but saw

the one who threw down thy fallen rose

And none it be other then a man

A man who is not a man but a monster

who whispers sweet nothings into maidens

ears, gives them fantasy's and tales to hold

strong.

The monster-man takes but the rose to the

maidens, to gift their beauty he says

then he leads them to their bed

And places a kiss to their fair head

and then their lips he but steals a kiss

As the passion fills thy maidens they are lost to

the world and the monster-man but takes them

to a world of passion and lust

and when this deed has been done he places a kiss onto thy maiden's neck, through

their flesh he bites and takes their now tainted

virgin blood. From them he takes their soul.

And when he is done he take thy rose

from were it lay on the table, passes to the

window or balcony and throws the once red pure

rose to the ground below.

Here I found thy fallen rose whose petals have

now gone black, but still it holds beauty for now

I must clean as I do every night thy moon goes dark and

the goddess is weak, away with the maiden's body and blood.

For I am bound to keep it hidden, thy secrets

of the moonless nights, the blood of maiden's that run.

For I am nothing more then a cursed rose, forever bound

to bloom on moonless nights.