The Wilting Flower

The flower wilts

Under Winter's frost.

Friends leave

The flower is lost.

Dead to the world

Hidden 'neath snow.

Silently dying,

Though no one knows.

The flower cries,

Its petals fall;

It now looks ugly:

Nature's call.

Freezes slowly

From outside to in,

Silently screaming

Of the pain that its in.

Naked and cold

It shivers alone.

The flower is dying

And has never been known.

Like a weathered rose

Beaten by hail,

Thorns pierce the wind

But to no avail.

The flower is weak,

Tortured by lies;

No one can hear

As it slowly dies.

Disappearing forever,

Eternal sleep.

Eternal damnation

That cuts so deep.

Now I am weak,

I have no power:

For I truly am

The wilting flower.