6/16/2016
Rose petals dance
across a melodious breeze, fresh
as a budding spring's morn.
Gracefully gliding,
they float with such ease, yet
a melancholy veil they adorn.
The breeze turns violent,
I fall to my knees, rose
petals sting like thorns.
Glancing upward,
towering trees, branches
naked, forlorn.
A breath of wind
whispers my name, exhaling
suffocating scorn.
Clouds overhead
bellow in pain, casting
shame too dense to ignore.
I gasp for a memory—
only nightmares remain, sinking
to my tomb of discord.
Now rose petals fall
as blood-soaked rain, drowning
in this murderous storm.