we arrive at the hospital,

and he's with me,

a bouquet of red carnations in his hand,

and regret in mine,

as we walk the halls,

of a sick prison,

hell waiting for fresh souls to crumble,

and i open the door,

and my sister smiles,

like her soul is made of hope,

and yoongi hands her the flowers,

and her expression sinks,

white,

and bleak,

like an angel that can't speak,

and she pulls me close,

and mumbles something,

that leaves me thinking,

and it's to escape,

before i'm bleeding.

(from you.)