A Rose's POV
What was short, shortened before my eyes.
My leaves fell, my petal's drooped.
Caught between two eras, my home now poorly remoulded.
The damn is now open, and there is nothing to stop the floods of change.
Now, my ashes shower the earth, a remnant of what existed.
Burned by 'their' initiated fire.
A/N
Listen to "Dear World" by Echosmith.
Have a great day, smile as much you can.
:)
YOU ARE READING
feather's and crowns
Poetrya book of random poetry [picture credits:https://weheartit.com/entry/205409838] The images you see, belong to the rightful, talented owners.
