Betrayal's Empty Commode

What if the thorn said, "I'll drink of your blood." When cast on the stem of the rose in the mud? Purpose was set on protection and love, From the gods and the guides in a void up above. Heard it today when the lightning touched earth, With a series of cries like a mother in birth. Feels like knives in my eyes when they are closed, To the vibrations of throats puking coast to coast. Set your intentions that's why I have to sweep, Miles of ashes from the killers I meet. But they don't leave behind blood; don't leave behind knives, They leave behind tears of the trash burned alive. I heard blood was what trust was but mine threw me aside, To make way for a tramp and to steal a free ride. So I tried to clean up, poison all the bad blood, Woke in an asylum full of poison pill love. Cling to a wall full of black frozen tar, When your lights are all out and you can't make it far. You hold it and hold but, it doesn't hold back. All these people outside try to throw it off track. When you think that you've won the forks in the road, You end up back in betrayals empty commode.