Floral Heart
As summer turns to fall; a chill moves through the air,
The beauty of nature; like those of flowers; are in their final days,
Such delicate ones; who call outdoors their home,
Their roots engraved into the ground,
The sun is their nurturer; who showers them with life,
To grow; to survive; to dance in the rain,
Without rays of warmth; they cannot go on,
Fading with every last breath,
A heart could be similar; as is mine,
Fragile and soft; like petals of flowers,
The warmth that flowed through these veins; has become watered-down,
Shifting to a bitter cold; waiting for the storm to pass,
Love is a disease; I cannot fight,
For a life without love; without a cure; is a lost cause.
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