The opposite of thorns on a rose

I want to watch somebody die, see that flat-pack end of them. I've seen the crash, click and climb of most things, spider-legged horses breathing out the last of their tree-strength, a new woman slide out of a torn vagina but not that bitter end. You can blame science if you like, both sides now, I want to discover just why we are supposed to operate as the exact opposite of thorns on a rose.