A Message from a dying, white rose


You picked me and smelled my scent
Like a little kid, so sweet and innocent
My thorns, you thought it’s indecent
You cut it leaving holes like cresent.
You picked me and placed on a vase
Showered me water, I’m in haze
Caressed me and melted by your gaze
Hypnotized… bloomed… amazed.
I danced like I’m the queen of the night
Turned and flipped with point and might
My leaves still swayed, I had the spotlight
Until the stage turn bright with blinding light.
“Dreamy, I feel like floating high
As the gravity forcefully sigh
My petals, my leaves cry
For salvation I let to fly.”
I missed my roots, my stem, my thorns
Where am I… bothered and torn,
My white petals, withered it turn
Like digging my grave I kissed thy scorn!
Space and time… life and death
It all had meaning when I see that wreath
My head’s still floating; I barely breathe,
Where’s the sun and rain, I want to bathe.
I’m left with my glooming petals
Who still struggle to face the lethals
Reimagining those unfaithful skulls
Who shove my soul and let my silvers dull.
I should die and you know it will come
But let me tell you, bury me in my home
Where butterflies hide during the storm
And above me, are other roses who dares to bloom.
Count the minutes that I breathe still
Hope that you fulfill my simple will
Happiness and love may be surreal
Like a broken vase where I lived after the waters were spilled.


Disclosures after Midnight. 29-11-2016