Gold Autumn Leaves With Withered Rose
Gold autumn leaves with withered rose
crumble like promises we made.
To dust returns the love I chose
as rust consumes the sharpened blade.
Wet grindstone hones the rusted edge.
Love swings the sword I can't evade.
You watch me teeter on the ledge
but find no words that can dissuade.
My broken thoughts can not sustain
the quest for all that I do lack.
Yet though vague flashbacks still remain
I know this too will fade to black.
I never thought that anything
that felt so right could ever die.
What was once love would later bring
an end to thinking I should try.
Copyright © Alexander Smoljanovic | Year Posted 2017
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