Violets shriveled in a desperate desolation-
Bleeding blues and bruising black.
But yellow rots through leaves of green
And gives stubborn solace in
Insights black and white-
Silent treatment of a flower's wilted soul
As it leaves it's roots
And sinks to soil.
Pretty petals wither and
whether or not you thought you could save it
With a cool drink of water
Or crimson drop of blood,
No, nothing so vital
Could bring the life back
To this vacant violet;
Dried up regret crumbles
With the quiet life of secret sorrow
Hollow as it's death to follow.
Stolen beauty, ***** and shattered.
Broken glass it's vase had offered.
And sweet ripples of it's youthful bloom
Had shriveled into endless doom.
Inevitable, uninvited
And yet so perfect, so exciting.
Shadows of it's gentle form
Sagging slowly to the floor.
This is what it must come to,
And this is the day
The flower has died.