I never saw once the soft tint of her eyes.
She could barely hold up what was left.
Stark and gracelessly bereft.
Her perfectly formed life of skies.
Drips of drops fell off petals gold.
Thin and misted flowers in dusk.
Left in dusty, crusted husk.
Heart still beating, hands still cold.
Torrential rain beat on the concrete
As sounds became silent crying
Whispers were louder than lying
Her soul couldn’t stay complete
I saw the crumbling, hard decay
But stared in humble thought
At the heart she stopped and caught
As she slowly, simply, faded away