Beauty Does Not Perish

A rose,
Wilting.
Its reason unseen...
Leaning downward, away from the water contained in the glass.
An attempt to save it, gently departing frail, tainted petals.
One after the other, witnessing the velvety silk of red,
Slightly converting violet at the tips, down to the white, yellow, and pink center...
Thirty-Four vibrant petals fall before the browning stem...
The last of this beauty, coiled into a bolbous like cone...
Tumbles off of its center with ease, ready to die.
At the bottom of this marsh like cone, lays an opening...
Nearly half and half
Death and Life rest in sink.
One part rotting - frowning at its dying host.
Another part almost smiling - for it lives a bit longer...
They say that if you squeeze its petals hard enough.
You'll be sure to watch it bleed...
But I know what it's like to bleed,
To have the Life God gave to you taken away...
So instead I collect the petals, good and bad.
Sprinkle the perfume of Jasmine over them,
And place the beauty
- The Inconvinience -
Of life and death in a small box...allowing the aroma of sweet irony,
To fill my scenses...
 

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

The greatest treasures we take from life is memories... a beautifully expressive piece my friend.