The Scattered Petals of the Rose
What would be the reason, the path that they chose.
In the mind, that point of time, it seemed to be so right;
To walk upon the path of scattered petals of the rose.
New beginnings, wrapped in ribbons and tied with bows;
Veiled with lace and a dress of pearl beads, glisten white.
A dream fulfilled at the end of the path that they chose.
People gather to witness in their garish clothes;
Seated in anticipation on wooden pews to view hearts in flight.
Watching as the path is scattered with petals of the rose.
Forever, forever is the hope of the vows, and that it grows.
To keep the inner embers glowing, no blinding light;
As not to wilt the scattered petals of the rose.
Challenges the body, and soul and what they expose.
Always the truth, the need to be right or to be contrite;
Remembering always the reason it was the path they chose.
Not to give in to the intoxicated spite, the loneliness of night;
Viewing the self, reflective and truthful as moonlight.
Remembering always the reason it was path they chose;
To cherish always the path of the fragile petals of the rose.
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