The petals fall,
Bit by bit,
Piece by piece.
They drift apart,
Torn asunder.
A ripping word,
A tearing glare.
A saddened sigh.
The quiet night,
Sees all sorrow.
It sees the pain,
The grief.
Why, oh why,
Do the petals fall?
One by one,
They fall away.
Moved away,
On the quiet night's breeze.
YOU ARE READING
Beside You He Walks
PoetryWhen I write, I feel like a wolf, Howling to the moon. When someone reads, I feel like they too, Are a wolf, howling to the moon. And although we are world's apart, We are together still-- A pack of wolves, Howling to the moon.
