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
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