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Mar 2014
Turning dark
Once a bright red
Now a bolder purple.
Slowly falling apart
Bit by bit.
A rose withering,
Petals falling,
Its beauty wasn't just in the red.
Still magnificent as such
Even when life has retired.

There by the window sill
Overlooking all of life yonder,
As the scent departs
And the thorns ***** harder.
One Saturday night
Someone's love expressed.
Embracing each other,
Its beauty beheld for a while
Lovers swaying across the room
Under the gaze of a fading essence.

Somewhere far away
A girl sits alone under an oak tree
Her lover never came.
"He loves me
He loves me not
He loves me
He loves me not..."
I had roses in my room, got it for my birthday. Each day i wake up,  i'd look at it and see it turn a different and darker shade. This is what i wrote when i sat and stared at it for too long.
Meenu Syriac
Written by
Meenu Syriac  India
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