When Loves Lost to the Flower of Death

My most prized poem. I wrote it for my love. She cried when she read it. I cried when I wrote it. She cried when I cried, and I cried when she cried. But since we're not together anymore, I entered it into a school contest and one. Go figure.

 

When Love’s Lost to the Flower of Death

 

Love is a beautiful rose, which sets upon the sill of a moonlit night.

You chase your dreams and fantasies around till you feel so light.

As you see your love inside of you, frolicking within your field of flowers,

You see a particular flower that she covets, you notice, the flower of death.

 

She prances around with joy and sorrow flush upon her face,

The sweat and heat sway and bend, keeping with her pace.

She dances and turns, the flower of death keeping in tune with her heart.

You notice something not right; blooming faster that flower of death.

 

She turns to look at you with those beautiful green eyes,

You wish she would look away, but the flower of death dies.

She turns suddenly to look at something in the distance.

It’s a stag, as black as night, come to take her away, that beautiful flower of death.

 

She became one with it, when the stag drew near,

Showering her with its fragrance, you have always feared.

You run as fast as you can, trying to capture what petals are left

And you can’t keep up with the wind, so scattered it is the flower of death.

 

As you wake from your gentle slumber into the light of the moon,

You notice a pale white rose sitting on your floor, soon

You will see her, though not the way you wish,

She’s gone with Death, the stag, gone from you your flower of death.

 

As you remember her fair hair and pale white skin

Remember that which makes your blood thin.

She was once your world, once your glory and hope

She was once your lover, once your flower of death.

 

When you die you will remember the one thing that kept you alive,

She is gone from you now, with sin washed away with strife.

As you look to the sky you see something you wished you didn’t.

A crow, as black as night, come to take its toll, for your flower of death.

 

Brian Hardy

Author's Note

I'm sorta wishing that I didn't post this, but I want to express myself.

Reviews

[CRAZYFACE]

WoW..This is truly amazing. Extremely strong with so much emotion