The Flower Called Purple

I, the river you, the bed Please, may I have the flower You may have my thorns instead I, the fire You, the flame I am what you require Yet you do not say my name In your petals, I lie still, Scared to stir, lest you recall, Quietly, I await your will, Lest you shake free and let me fall. Down into heaven, I drown, A gay song upon my lips, Your roots, my final crown, 'fore I am cast from paradise's grips. She is ash now Purple faded into grey Her beauty no more Memories abandoned in decay