It Spoke No More

It loved me once, that rose beneath your breast,
unfolding beautifully with the rise of light.
Its gentle petals disclosing its true colors,
and I loved it with all my might.

So happy, I thrived on your love,
wanting no other, thinking of only you.
I never existed before you rose within me,
loving me ... as only you can do.

Tender petals strewn around my heart,
making me gentle, loving, and kind.
Beams of golden light shattered the shadows,
leaving sorrows of the past behind.

I thought that lovely rose would last forever,
endure beyond the partition of time.
Yet, it ended quite softly with the season
closing its petals for the very last time.

I saw it struggle and bend, weep and cry,
not wanting to let go of its bed.
It fought till the last, wept a frozen tear,
shattered at last, then lay down its head.

A pretty rose, crisped by the hands of winter ...
severed, the love that you gave to me.
A frozen tear etched upon my memory forever.
My sorrows drift out to sea.

That rose that rose like the finest rose
rose like no other rose before
and spoke its love till winter's scorn
until it spoke no more.