Sad Dizain
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Skeletal frame this autumn rose has lain,
through bitter chill that wore her glory down
for only whittled veins of time remain,
of what was night's luster and wondrous crown.
Laying on breast of final days, a brown
skin crumpled from moon's sheen to air's foam,
to rest in a cavern of whitened tomb.
Oh, her fragile petals hovered mid-air
releasing the hint of dark-tinted chrome
and extinguish the grandeur that was there.
Contest: Sad Poem- Dizain for Laura Loo
5/18/2016
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2016
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