Death of a Flowery Mind

the flowers die as i walk slowly by wither away to coal black dust my shimmering parasol graces their dying bulbs as i swing to their death, round and round my words are dried blood staining the pages of my mind creating the illusion that everything is fine when the blood cracks and you can finally see there in lies the death of me my eyes avert themselves from the mess that i have made my hands do not tremble as i sweep around their ashes no thoughts or cares to the destruction i have laid as the world around me trembles and crashes strips of blood flow from my words cuts and bruises from on my mind ruining the illusion that everything is fine... as the blood washes my mind away you can finally see, there's no way i can stay