Wilted flower

 

I hold that wilted red rose

in dirt covered hands.

Trying to replant dead love, 

I implant good thoughts

to cut through

stagnant wastewater cries,

but it's gone for good.

I can't bring back to life

something that has

gone before it's time.

I cry tears

to water the earth,

shine a light to nourish,

but no amount of tears

could make 

this flower flourish.

 

I hold that wilted flower,

to place on the grave

of forever memories,

that have now

faded into yesterday's dreams,

but I can't bring back to life

things I left so far behind.

So, I place

the wilted flower in a vase.

To remind me

not to listen

to the siren song

of broken hearts.

 

I hold that wilted flower,

to remind of nights

when meteor showers

set the passionate sky alight.

Comets could have

crashed into us, 

planets could have collided, 

exploding into ashes and dust

but it felt like this could

never self combust.

I hold that flower

and I think

of withered love.

 

 

Thanks for reading

Endless Nightmares out now

300 pages of horror themed poetic storytelling

 https://amzn.to/42H2OGw

Please take a look at my previous collection "Torn Pages"

100+ all new poems not shared here before.

https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle