As the petals on a rose are dry,
as is your soul in the light.
Beautiful and crisp, pale and swift,
dying slowly as you drift.
As the petals on a rose are hard and bright,
so is your desire to stop life's fight.
Slowly falling quietly and slow, floating gently,
to and fro. There is nothing to say as
you fall, because your rolls have already
been called.
As the petals on a rose are wilted and fragile,
as is your heart, for its long to travel;
far away from this hardening life, feeling empty
and without strife.
As you lay down on your death row,
your hopelessness slides with one final blow.
Rotting at your withered edges you remiss, about your
unspoken pledges.
Promises cast and broken so swift,
your hopeless slides back into your grip.
Without movement and thought you shatter,
letting go of your breath without matter.
Coming forth towards the light,
you become consumed in silent fright.
As the dark closes in around you, you feel
at peace. Possibly because your life
come to cease, ripping you apart piece by piece.
Breaking off from your stem,you make a
choice to begin again.
~A.K.D
YOU ARE READING
Blood Stained Lips ~A Book of Poetry
PoetryA book of poems that are written by myself as well as all of the cover imaging. They are copyrighted so please do not plagiarize. A variety of self written poems are in this book. Please do not copy, share or quote any of my writing without clarif...
