Dead Rose

Red tinged with black...
The order of decay
Brown once green
Green no more

As wretched as an open sore
The head watches me.
Every shadow, every light,
Every moment I dare to hope…
Even when Fair Morpheus comes to me at night…
The head watches.

Devoid of thought or happiness,
It stares.
An abyss of fears, old and new,
Rush into me,
Stealing away my sanity
Staring the emblem of death down
Day
Noon
And night.

By its shadow, I may mark the passing of the hours;
Why else would I have kept the damned flower?
For if the crest of love may die,
Why not love itself?  
To remind me of
Love long lost,
A mere replica…
And love holding fast,
But possibly slipping…

Tears fall fast when you’re panicked,
A truth from long-ago.
A brackish poison tears may be,
If shed for the wrong reason…
Seven seasons
And I have yet to accept
That he will be there when I wake up.

Dreams that crumble have no place in my world
So I long to rip the dead rose down.
Instead, I let it watch me.
Let the fears come,
My poison flow;
Let the Rose have her show…

A smile, and with a laugh
There is a partner for the Rose to watch…
A sprig of Baby’s Breath lies next to her
and on my wall, there are now two shadows.

Just as two shadows pace this room,
Such a small cage
For such love.

The Dead Rose lies in wait
Waiting to catch me
For me to slip up…
But no longer do her images haunt me
Not so long as those two arms are there
To catch me as I fall…

The Rose teaches me lessons
And these are not wasted.
“Treasure love, whilst you have it”
“Think naught of death…
For true love never dies…”