Halcyon

Withering Eden

I sit here, quiet, mulling, in the bestrewn room,
My mind sauntering through our garden of silent despair,
I stroll among the once-tendered blossoms in the shadow of loss,
Wondering why they wither, though I still care.

You had brought me roses, once vibrant and bright,
From the fading garden of midnight blossoms' light,
I didn't recognise them as crumbling roses of yesterday,
Now, all that remains are scattered petals of a shattered Eden's sway.

I misjudged the thorn-crowned blooms,
Mistaking them for frost-kissed blossoms of hope,
Vines of longing and tendrils of the hope entwine,
Yet, all I'm left with is petals and ivy, alone and bare.

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