My crimson sorrows, pour onto the floors,
Bathing each torn petal of my orchid,
Lying in my puddle of crimson crystals,
With the stained daggar of blood dripping royalty,
Royal in Hell!
Refuge for sinners,
Now my pure orchid lies in the field of innocence, where I'm banned,
The jewels! Gems! Diamonds! Oh the pearls!
All weaved together between my fingers, slipped through with little resistance.
Tore them myself,
Wrapping them around my orchid,
Drenched in royalty,
Absorbing crystals, become my rose.
Plucked and held,
I rule the undesirable praying for desruction.
Guide that inspired this poem: