The Red Rose Declines

The red rose declines in the cruelty of time gentle sunsets fade in the midst from barely lonely skies, silver streams die. What of those days of sweet bliss the tunes of a symphonic kiss my soul miss, and orbs of light are close in search of emerald nights the stalks of white ghosts creeping softly upon shades of grey the touch of deadly strokes. Visions of slanted monsoons, and flawless white pearl moons hanging above the tides those opalescent hues of fire. Fall flaming chariots of deliverance oceans a glint billows glistening in gloaming of earth's tint. The mystery of the quiet still shards of glass scattered across the twilight atmosphere diamond coated tears. Sublime, jet stream geyzers and star night gazers infuse scientific minds like eagles soar high. The beautiful water lily flower, the Japanese iris, red bark cypress 22 there traced divine knowledge. The minerals of the soil, and treasures of spoil the naked eye, though it be finite will see. Yet seasons come swiftly Autumn, Summer, Fall, and Spring, but still the red rose declines in the cruelty of time.