The black rose, my favorite.
The rose symbolizes love,
the black, the withered and non-existent.
It took us long to label it,
but after years like turtle doves,
you seemed bitter and got distant.

Love wrote the highs, loss read the byes.
Now silence pens the chapters where your voice once replied

When you’ve done enough
The sorrow will fade in the lack of clear thoughts and the beats of a broken heart will eventually stop