My Flower

A fusion of sickness and longing laps at me
Like waves snatching at toes in the sand
Likewise it threatens to steal the breath of me
For emotions I don't understand
My knees are weak
My hands are damp
I think I have the shivers.

My hope blossoms and withers like the late flower
The most delicate flower of its time
As if a dying whisper, it is lost too soon
A child before its prime
My heart is lost
My morals fade
When I face you in pieces.

Within your gaze all thought ceases to compare
In loveliness to all that you are
The sunset bathes your skin in silk of gold
In darkness I recede with thoughts ajar
My hopes are gone
My fancies are nigh
Tonight in dreams, I shall say goodbye.