Wilted Rose

It was something beautiful, like a quickly budding rose. We found it among the thorns, struggling to reach the sunlight. We gave the flower so much care with soil and shade and gentleness. We watered the flower, so happily, almost too happily, too enthusiastic. We were a whirlwind, destructive despite all our best intentions. I think that the flower drowned. We just used too much water, and the flower quickly faded. We killed it. We, together, now have no purpose.