Death Is a Rose
As the storm flew away,
I had but one thing
on my mind.
Surely, there is
beauty in death.
If not for the fulfillment,
maybe just to see
life as a painting.
On the canvas, I see
life as the sky and
death as the ground.
Their lips meet with the
sun at the horizon.
The turning leaves on an
autumn tree- that we
admire so much-
will die with such grace,
in the colors they will
always be known for.
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