lace flowers

And he picked her thoughts from the ground,
scattered like flower petals,
and sighed a sigh that shook
branches from trees.

The lace flowers were torn, and turning back was not an option. After thousands of years, he should have learned that human souls were fragile, but he still tore their edges with shaking hands, causing a mess of Springtime that he couldn't clean up. Death was not poetic, Death was not handsome, but Death was remorseful, and so he compared souls to flowers and kept a garden of the most beautiful on display for all to see.