by Benjamin Miller

Created on: October 06, 2008   Last Updated: May 12, 2012

Of Fire and Flowers

A garden of wilting memories, all ablaze.

The very air tainted with smoke,

Perfumed with the heady scent of fire and flowers.

Flame licks thorned stems,

Once green, now blackened and charred.

Once our refuge, now an ashen wasteland.

Long-dead love; only these roses remained,

But they too are gone, nothing ties me now to this realm.

Only fine ash from a burnt rose,

Proof of the fire in our hearts,

Scattering in the breeze.

And amongst the embers,

Flickering orange casting an ethereal glow,

Love lies sleeping, waiting eternally

For the one she knows will never return.

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