Flowers wander the seasons still
Lusting towards light, an aromaesthetic full bloom

In the coming chill and gloam rolls a fog,
dark and blight, bringing a slow collapse of skeleton

Lifeblood eclipsed with gloom and brume,
imbue faded with wane and wither

There is strength to a wilted flower
now blind to it's blush whorl, a spinning gown

Head held heavy
but still being held

The dust and sand lies still on my surface, 
from the millions of impacts and punches my body has suffered, 
are different than the dust and ash of yours 
From all the elements that storm and whirl through you 
Mine that is bleached from flares and light,
and yours, 
filled with every color you've felt