FredPeyer

Dying Love

A red rose leaning

Tiredly against the glass

Of the dirty old vase

Nearly empty of water

Some formerly red petals

Lying abandoned and forlorn

On the table near the vase

 

A symbol of a slowly inexorably

Wilting dying love

A love once full of promise

Straining to reach the sun

Filling the heart with providence

For an inconceivably bright

And happily fulfilled future

 

Like the dying rose

That love has lost its brilliance

A mere shadow of its former self

All shriveled up devoid of sap

It exists but only as a barely

Unrecognizable broken copy

Of its shining former self