Untouchable Piece of Pure Art

If there were the roses on vines in my garden of dreams,
They would be as black as they were made of my nightmares and sins.
The darkness that somewhen was settled inside,
Would never let my mind and my soul beautifully thrive.
It turned me into a person I’ve never wanted to be, 
A loveless and soulless who now doesn’t want to break free.
Break free from the emptiness inside of his fragile heart,
Now he guesses that love is untouchable piece of pure art.