What Pride has Wrought

In her rage she burns
She glows like the rising sun
Her petals dazzling in the flames

In her darkest hour
She shines brightest
As luminous as the moon

Her high and mighty mistress
Is all but forgotten
In her own passionate flames

Laces of black shadow
Course through her veins
Her skin begins to shrivel

As the fires of her rage
Extinguish themselves
She feels herself collapse

Her body is fragile
Her skin begins to fall away
Her color is dust

An ember within her
Glows ever so slightly
She does not want it to stop

It does

As she lays helpless in the dust
Of her crumpled bones
She longs for her mistress again

But when she feels the hot rays
Upon her skin again
Life does not return to her

Her cries are silent, her tears dry
For she cannot escape the affliction
That her pride has wrought