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The Sick Rose

Wisborg

O rose thou art sick
The invisible worm
That flies in the night
In the howling storm

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy

In thy bed of crimson joy

For thy body is his refuge
He'll be a grateful visitor
But do not try to tame him
For he's so voracious

Though thy body is his refuge
He'll never be thy prisoner
O nature thou art so cruel
To make us feel desire

Feel pain
Feel anger, disgust and despair
Feel shame
Feel agony and lust