The light of the rose

I touched a burning candle, I shall not burn.  
Shoot me with a silver bullet its all the same.
Stab a stake through my heart.
Though I bled.  
I feel no pain.
No, I'm not a creature of the night.
Its my heart that is burning not my flesh.  
It stabs my heart with thousands of swords.  
Its a dark fire.  
That's burning through my soul.  
Its the rage of my deepest desire.  
This forest of my life is now ashes and dust.  
Why can't I feel?  
I should crack and peel.  
I am drawn by my desire.  
My lust for power.  
My lust for pain.  
Its the whispers of the devil in my ear.  
Or is that the true me?  
My soul laughs and cackles waiting for its sweet release.  
Which I can't see.  
My heart flies on black wings.  
I fly in this loneliness with no clue.
I can't hear to the cries of the rose.  
As she pleads for my return.  
But I am too far in the dark autumn breeze.  
Surrounded by these flock of black crows.  
In this darkness the rose calls for me.
But I heed not to her call.  
I fly away to the place of doom.