by Author Name Withheld 201

Created on: January 26, 2009

THE DYING GARDEN

There were valleys lined with withering roses

Sinking into twilight like somber silhouettes

Ode to the moonlight, stilled in nighttime hours

Petals faltering with a calm indifference

Coming into death, wilting into shades of black

Row upon row of memories forlorn

With flowers marking sentiments, souring with age

Once a place where moments seemed sacredly timeless

Now callously defined, worn out by the days

Long and harsh of light, before the darkness, swallowed

With ancient markings etched on weathered stone

Above ruins of the dead and finite dust of hollow bones

Death's opulence has bred these fields of sorrow

The dying garden, bound by nature's law to be reborn

Promises all life the cycle of eternity

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