the vase is sitting on the table alone
left there to gather the dust around itself
the dust was collected by the web between the wall and the vase
with the tradition broken, it was worthless
all dried up, desperately waiting for the purest of pure water
standing alert, healthy green stems falls
turning to faded light yellow like death has been around a period of time
rose petals with a faded beautiful aroma fell
onto the dust-covered table like a rock
stiffen blood coloured petals shatter with every soft touch,
as fragile as a heart
one petal still attached, unwilling to give up its symbolism
trying to prove it's still around if it's believed so
minutes turn to hours and days turn into years
life is one big struggle in the dark
eternal sleep has come with nothingness
no purpose to breathe, no purpose to live,
no purpose to express itself
the sun is moving beneath the horizon
beautiful orange sky as it goes to eternal sleep
the last time to experience the sunset alone isn't fair
sun rising early in the mourning will never be seen again
YOU ARE READING
A Storybook of Poems
PoetryA collection of poems created from different times of my life. Each poem may depict different emotions and state of thinking while other others may be of a mixture. Some may show the down times and some ups as well as some fictional and some autobio...
