we're the warriors of romance, roses tattooed to our skinsnclenching pencils tight we wait for battle to begin. nreality's upon us and the fields are glowing rednthere's nothing we won't die for cause this life itself is deadnnand i choose to hold my ground and fightnnrecalling back to once upon a time, deep in a dreamnwhen someone spoke of love, i didn't ask 'what do you mean?'nit's a magic in the air, transcending tangibilityni know that it still calls you cause it screams inside of mennthere's something left in this dreamnn~ there's a darkness closing innthrough damage in our armour, it sinks into our skinnthis coldness takes it away, that which makes us freenit's something i won't accept, no power over me.nna rose buries it's thorns into a cemetery yardnit's thorns are long and twisted and it's stem is thin and darknthough it's pedals shine on in the gothic reverienthe death that feeds it's light is that of creativity. nnAnd I choose to hold my ground and fight n