The rose
Her love had wilted like the petals of the winter flower
and as much as she had cared for it, nurtured it, willed it to grow
she could not help but admire the way the icicles formed amongst its dead roots
but it was a fatal attraction, a lust that would melt into nothing but lost tears
she knew it so well, knew it was something she should not want
yet found her fingertips crushing the stem of a flower she once loved
and pressing longingly to the frozen blankets of frost
and as the days passed, she grew colder and colder
her heart wilting just as the flower that had long buried into soil
and she lay there, not caring for anything but the hurt in her heart
but as she closed her eyes for her final sleep,
she felt the warm kiss of heat
the grey skies dissolved into blue
and strands of gold filtered through
a puddle of chaos lay all around
but amidst the anger,
the pain,
the sorrow,
in the corner, grew a single rose