Roses bloom blood red and thorns never pierce groping fingers, but we cry diamond tears at night as we mourn for dying days. Hours pass in days or years, and moments last for lifetimes as we secretly wish that lifetimes weren't nearly as long or nearly as full of living. Hot steel pierces the minds of our fathers, who die and die again, or grandmothers whisper words of wisdom as their lungs take one last breath. Melodies escape our lips which surpass the river's song in beauty, but never in length (for the river cries forever). Moments pass in seconds and winds whisper into our ears stories of far-off lands and knights who've rescued fair maidens from tyrants' chains. Hearts ache with pain that soon forgets itself (or lingers on and on and on). Love is lost, regained, and lost again; memories fade, replay, and change. Rain falls dry to fill our flickering souls, and we are saved (or lost forever).