What is a flower without its petals?
Already plucked, he loves me not.
The scent of sunshine mixed with earth
faded away to rot and dust.
Thirst beyond ability to be quenched,
the impending darkness within reach.
Pulled from the surface, piercing the savior,
blood trickling down and filling the hole
the flower used to call home,
seeping into the severed roots,
leaving behind traces of
a memory best forgotten.
Dead from the moment of perception,
too alluring to pass,
a petalless flower never lasts.
