Dead Rose
A butterfly enclosed is not beautiful
A rose plucked isn’t beautiful
Neither is a soul enslaved
The rose is dead
Look at the wilted petals
The decorated drying sepals…
ready to fall off
The stalk holds no more
The thorn too weak to prick
Look at it
It attracts no more
The color shading
It’s sweetness fading
It’s beauty turning priceless
It’s essence worthless
The rose is dying
Tired of being neglected
Scarcely loved
No hope to future blossom
Look at the broken flower
Smell the dying aroma
The faded beautiful scent
Can you remember how it once looked like?
Save the memories
The rose is dead
Balozi ❤️
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