The Dying Rose

I am the rose you gave to me fifteen years ago today. A wilted dying breathless rose. My color faded as the years have gone by. Hidden away was my heart, I kept it hidden from sight. For they not see me weep, as my agony leaves me in despair. I cry alone at night so no one can see the tears fall down my face. My life is so empty, it has no meaning. Love is a serpent with a bitter sting. I've been injected with your deadly venom. A poison that has taken my every reason for existing. Existing in this place some call heaven, that I live as hell. I wish you were here, standing before me, as I dye in your memory. Dying, as so forth your love for me. If you were here, would you catch me as I fall to my loves end? Would you hold me in your arms and plead that everythings o.k. I think not, as you would turn and walk away. For my vanising soul has no barring on your conscience. Well here I stand before your futures fate. For tonight is the end of what could have been fifteen years together. I stumble to the ground, I parrish tonigh. Leaving to you, only the memories that are hidden in this symbol of my love and devotion. That symbol being, ME,
The Dying Rose.