on a feathery bed with rose petals around
surrounding a rose
and with the kiss of death upon the rose
sleep with absolute peace
nothing awakens
nothing moves
and nothing lives
a dying rose
which loses its beauty
and the wonderful scent it used to have
and is no longer a rose
is no longer living
it becomes a symbol
for life and death
i seem to be almost life like in itself
with beauty that dies
in a short amount of time
almost human
almost rare
almost special
almost dead
and just as life is like others
this rose may be dead but still alive at heart
nothing is perfect
nothing is fair
life is hell
and nothing is well
this rose is like life itself in itself
and nothing is more dead than life itself
and nothing lasts forever either
so as this rose dies
a part of me dies with it