One Rose
One tattered rose, yet beauty still remains; reflecting in the tears of Nature’s grief to mix with mine. Fate’s route of last refrains has led me where my love now lies beneath
cold hallowed grounds. It must have fallen from the myriad of flowers which now frame white marble stone. Death’s feast has left a crumb and I, with trembling hand and eyes aflame
retrieve a vestige of the coffin’s shroud. Now cradled carefully lest petals fall to carpet steps of dissipating crowd; much like our wedding day. I will recall
the life we shared but always loathe the ache of losing my sweet Rose when I awake.
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