The Rose
A single petal fell from the flower,
Gently, delicately.
It clung to each and every snowflake
That the crisp and cold breeze gave to it.
The sky was dark,
But was coated by the silver rays of the moon.
The color almost matched the distinctive color of his yearning eyes.
The petal hit the ground without a sound.
Time seemed to be frozen.
Her eyes began to fill,
As her head spun like a hurricane stirring.
Her first thought was to be alone,
Until she realized she was.
He has left without giving her anything,
Anything except the memory of the shadow of his silhouette…
And the rose.
The rose he had given to her,
When the thought to be love first blossomed
And was as white as the snow in her hair,
The one she held now is deep dark red.
It resembled the color of the blood,
That once flowed from her wrist.
The thorn was used to prick her arm.
No pressure was needed as even the thorns seemed perfect.
Next to the fallen petal,
A drop of blood fell,
Tainting the snow as the memory of the whitest rose now was.
Her breath was deep as she controlled the liquid crystals in her eyes.
Falling to her knees, Dizzy as she watched the drip
Another petal fell.
Watching the second petal float
Like a feather seemed to give her heart the second piece.
She hoped in silence as she stood lost without tracks
She would someday receive a final rose from him,
One that was any color but the color of a raven’s coat,
Or a lump of beaten up coal.
What seemed to be hours passed as she waited for every petal to drop.
When she was left with only the stem,
She stood up.
Closing her eyes she tried to make the best of the chilled air,
Unsuccessful.
She recalled each day he was able to keep her warm
As they looked at the moon above them.
Her finest memory was one where she was given,
The first bittersweet kiss.
Looking down his footprints were still imprinted.
He left those too,
But she didn’t keep them.
Reaching her own foot out,
She wiped them away.
Realizing she wasn’t trying to follow him.
She then stared into the direction he disappeared,
Dropping the stem.
“Our love was so fragile, We were so strong.
If you realize what you wanted,
I hope you find it later in me.
The tears fall as sharp as this thorn,
And I was dreaming too loudly."
She whispered watching the mouthful of air blot in front of her
Like the cold that disabled the rose.
***
Gently, delicately.
It clung to each and every snowflake
That the crisp and cold breeze gave to it.
The sky was dark,
But was coated by the silver rays of the moon.
The color almost matched the distinctive color of his yearning eyes.
The petal hit the ground without a sound.
Time seemed to be frozen.
Her eyes began to fill,
As her head spun like a hurricane stirring.
Her first thought was to be alone,
Until she realized she was.
He has left without giving her anything,
Anything except the memory of the shadow of his silhouette…
And the rose.
The rose he had given to her,
When the thought to be love first blossomed
And was as white as the snow in her hair,
The one she held now is deep dark red.
It resembled the color of the blood,
That once flowed from her wrist.
The thorn was used to prick her arm.
No pressure was needed as even the thorns seemed perfect.
Next to the fallen petal,
A drop of blood fell,
Tainting the snow as the memory of the whitest rose now was.
Her breath was deep as she controlled the liquid crystals in her eyes.
Falling to her knees, Dizzy as she watched the drip
Another petal fell.
Watching the second petal float
Like a feather seemed to give her heart the second piece.
She hoped in silence as she stood lost without tracks
She would someday receive a final rose from him,
One that was any color but the color of a raven’s coat,
Or a lump of beaten up coal.
What seemed to be hours passed as she waited for every petal to drop.
When she was left with only the stem,
She stood up.
Closing her eyes she tried to make the best of the chilled air,
Unsuccessful.
She recalled each day he was able to keep her warm
As they looked at the moon above them.
Her finest memory was one where she was given,
The first bittersweet kiss.
Looking down his footprints were still imprinted.
He left those too,
But she didn’t keep them.
Reaching her own foot out,
She wiped them away.
Realizing she wasn’t trying to follow him.
She then stared into the direction he disappeared,
Dropping the stem.
“Our love was so fragile, We were so strong.
If you realize what you wanted,
I hope you find it later in me.
The tears fall as sharp as this thorn,
And I was dreaming too loudly."
She whispered watching the mouthful of air blot in front of her
Like the cold that disabled the rose.
***