WE WAIT FOR THE NIGHT

 

We wait for the night,

dry from the sun,

weak to our roots.

We yearn for moisture,

petals limp,

stems drooping. 

We wait for the night,

for the moonlight

to ease our pain.

We wait for the dew

to quench our thirst,

to replenish our souls.

We wait for the sun

to lift its fiery head

and begin its daily ritual.

We are ready

to face the new day

with arms lifted.

My Battered Heart

rose wilted
Source: dolcemania

My Battered Heart

The rose drifts to the ground,

Petals dry and wilting in the cold breeze.

A death resembling the demise of my heart

As an unraveling of feelings turns to dust.

A shoe grinds the rose petals to oblivion,

The preferred state of my battered heart.

The wind lifts the remnants of the flower

to circle around me with its dying breath.