Dead Rose

Alone… driven by the scent of a dead rose… captivated by its fragrance indulged by its mysterious aroma silenced in this moment of awe… …alone… Following my own steps… Hearing the powder being lifted behind me from the snow… Feeling the gravel shift with each step, My inner flame boiling with anticipation Yearning to see you Longing to feel you Aching to smell you Craving to hear you Wanting to taste you… …alone Drops…blurring my view… Trees moving faster Air growing colder Wind crying louder… …so close to feeling you I need you May I be your last thought… Remember my touch…my scent… I see your light resting on the horizon sweet bliss at last… or that’s what I thought… my flame, starting to die… slowly being consumed by everything that is now deprived… alone…again deprived of you… …again alone Standing in the snow… With nothing more Than single memory Of my dying rose