𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲 ?

ARE  YOU  OUT  OF  YOUR  FUCKING  MIND  ?

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .

[thorndug-m-blog]

                                        who would think a rose so sweet would dry     &&     crumble at the feet     &&     blooms that scent the night     &&     day would steal a heart     ,     then fade away     .     with petals soft     &&     fondly red    ,     sweet essence fills an addled head then turns to dust before the eyes     ,     leaving naught     ,     but sad surprise     .     who would think such thorny vine could lift a blossom as divine     &&     by the stem on which it stands could so wrong an offered hand     .     such strength     &&     beauty is rarely true     ,     a blessing owned by very few as ‘neath the soil     ,     in winters keep there sleeps a rose to tear a cheek     .          //          penned by lune     .