There was snow everywhere, fresh and pure. Stepping on it would seem like a sacrilege. On that lay a red rose, a red as red could ever get. For all he knew, the rose was white just till the moment she left the place and him…forever.
(Inspired by a scene in the movie, “Phantom of the Opera”.)
A fallen rose
Not from a branch
But from a hand
A lip’s tremble
Soon the air rumbles
Cupid must’ve grumbled
A silent twitch
A soul’s readiness to switch
Never to mistake it as a glitch
A gasp of breath
A struggle to hold or let it go
Looming in the mist, the leery Death
A conscious heart
Once aware and confused now
Purpose lost sans you
A falling tear
Drowning now all that I’ve ever feared
Leaving me only with nakedness to wear
A primal scream
Ripped and torn from nerve to cell
I pray my reality to never even be your dream
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