Rose

Why did you call to me like a sirens song on the wind
sad and luring compelling me to this place

how did you reach me my heart was black and closed
its not right that you took my healing

a rare and precious rose you found
which you quickly placed under glass
insisted on my honesty and loyalty

but now you leave me here
cold and lonely without your heart
left on a shelf slowly dying underneath the glass

you still make the occasional promise of hope
but every step you take is away from me
I am becoming more brittle everyday

Soon I will be a meer memory
locked within this glass
no hope left no desire to continue to shine
maybe it is true that nothing lasts

I wish you didnt show me that.
as I would prefer to hope.