Swords And Roses

Do We Bleed Not, In That We Love As Blades, As Roses, Time Is As Fleeting As A Dove And As The Sand Sifts The Moments Out The Hourglass And Love Finds It's Way, Just As The Blade Swinging In Inertial Mass F=m a , This The Sword Knows For Passionate Lovers, In War, In Crowns With Thorns Where The Sweet Scents Of Affection Serenade The Soul Just As Battle Scars From Pangs Of War, Yet, Nothing Truly Is Ever Lost When You Turn Pain To Bards, Whether Battlefields Or Romance, Matters Not Wounded By The Cold Piercing Steel Tip Of Fraught, And The Mists Of Time Take It's Course And The Memories Are Stained With Pricks And Bones, With Life Comes Lessons, Regressions And Discourse In Symphonies Of Valor And Heartbreak And Remorse, Nothing Unfettered, Nothing Gained, In Devotion, In Lament With Swords Through Friendships, Through Amours So Bend the Will Of Hatred And Anger Like A Scimitar, Lay Down The Glaive And Plant The Seed For Better Days