nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

FALLEN ROSE

Years now seem
Like melting wax
Of a burning candle
Times now past
A marble hand
Its fingers tight
Upon the flame
A dying night.

Each moment pleads
To hours eyes
Dark indifference
Cruel skies
A blink to time
A warriors foe
A silent step
The world to show.

Its meloncholy veil
Its suffering breath
That reaches out
Promises unkept
Along the borders
Its winding roads
Its heaving chest
Its fallen rose.