Your beauty,
Once radiant white—
Budding, serene,
Pure—
Displayed openness,
A readiness to drink
In the evening dew.
And you did—
You drank it,
Absorbed it into you—
But then stopped.
You became tainted
With bitter blight,
Bringing cold, harsh
Winds in the night.
Your petals—
At first blushing
Seeming mature—
Were rusting
Rubicund rancor
Into our bower
Of baptized bones.
One-by-one they fell,
Petals like feathers
Weighted by fate,
Now burnt charcoal,
Razed rot relinquished—
Fallen—forever forgotten,
Loveliness lost
In a premature winter.
Thorns are all that remain.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, October 4, 2025.
Tittu
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: October 4th, 2025 07:13
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Paul Bell, Salvia.S
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Comments5
It's going to take me a while to get my head back in your way of thinking, I think I know this person (is the picture meant to be that dark or is it my phone). Enjoyed my journey back to the dark, don't forget Mr.Tristan your contribution to the fusion please.
My friend, it’s a dark homecoming, and you’ve walked it beautifully, as always. Glad you are back and, my goodness, I did not even realize you had invited me to one. Will certainly contribute Thanks you for your time and presence, Tobani. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Your welcome
And done...just contributed! Hope you like!
Thank you it's a wonderful addition, thank you for your time in doing it, enjoy the rest of your weekend
There is a balance of beauty and disease in this poem that puts beauty in the past and stark ugliness and death in the present and even that guarded by thorns. A poem mixed with light and darkness.
Soren, you captured it...beauty fallen, rot reigning, thorns the only guardians left. That is exactly the heart of it, and I’m grateful for your read, my friend. 🌹🖤🥀🌑
You are most welcome
Good write T. Someone's never a wilting (a rose, that is) and we knows him! lol.
LOL! We sure do and his name is #$^#%...Ah-gah-gah-gah-gah-gah!
Going to interpret this as I find it, Tristan: a glorious rose caught by the passage of time, chronicled in rich poetry.
Should there be a metaphor involved somewhere, I've missed it!😊
Fair enough, Dave. It is metaphorical, but the cool thing about a good metaphor is that it still holds when read literally. For me, it’s about the death of love in a relationship...but it can be anything, really…even just a rose dying over time. Because at its core, it’s about how most things, even the best of them, decay with time. 🌹🖤🥀🌑 So, in your literal interpretation...spot on mate! Thanks for your time and thoughts, my friend!
Love always starts with rose-coloured glasses.
Isn't the rose a fantastic flower, though. Beauty surrounded by thorns, as if she knows at some point she'll need protecting.
Would we all go through it again, probably.
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