Black flowers upon thy grave

I placed black flowers upon thy grave.
Can this really be the end as some would say?
You press the blade against your heart.
And you curse at black graves, and rave at words unspoken.
And you curse at yourself, for not making amends with your bitter friend called death.
You cross your hands, and press the torn rose against your palm.
You press the blood on unmarked graves.
You cry with the tears of an angel.
But pray with the heart of coal.
As the blood runs dry.
As red roses have lost their luster.
And as cherry lips turn pale.
This is the time where it has come to say goodbye...
I'm sorry I never told you how much I loved you