I stare at this rose
it seems downhearted and miserable.
I stare at this rose
it looks as if it is regretful and despairing towards life.
I stare at this rose
it says that it wants its tribulations as well as its distress to end so it can perish in absolute tranquility.
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It starts to scream, a wilderness of vexation
it grabs me by the throat and urges for me to help it
"you need to get me out of here!" the rose exclaimed.
I shook my head; maybe I'm lounging in some sort of a dream!
But there sat the rose, in its still quietude and seclusion.
I tried to read the words it showed in its petals but I saw that the rose was vanishing; it was deceasing on its own...
I took the beautiful vermillion rose and had it rest on my comforting palms
God takes away the most beautiful flowers away sooner because the world don't and won't know how to rest this beauty in the eyes of the beholder.
YOU ARE READING
Mellifluous Murmurs
Poetry❁ Freedom is allowing the crisp air to guide you through this forest we can call society. ❁
