Terrific, how does hate grow behind our eyes
Pretty is nothing to thousands of cries
Shallow veins think they rule here
Hate is getting to the center my dear
You heard of how they killed your kind
And that's when you though that you will find
Their children hate to you too
But their innocence will not escape your doom
War is leaving scars even on the unborn
Roses are dying only leaving thorns
Why cant the flower ever bloom again?
Maybe its because we are mad
Mad for revenge
Mad of grieving
Mad from hate
In our times humanity has forgotten about the flower itself
The only thing left to remember is the thorns to hurt myself
Mad from power
I want peace and a flower to bloom
I am tired of thorns stabbing you for a false doom...