My Dying Roses

The roses dying in my world,

Their breaths waning, soft petals curled,

They whisper low, flesh turning blue,

Skin turns to ice, they ask for you.

With ceasing hearts, whiter than sheets,

Their floral breaths, somber yet sweet,

Longing to dance in midnight's air,

Kissing your curls, touching you bare.

Each rose carries within a flame,

And every flame whispers your name,

Losing itself in your grey form,

Bleeding for you, its crimsons warm.

My dying roses yearn to feel,

Their twilight lips caressed by Neil,

My love that lives beyond a veil,

And keeps my dying roses pale.

~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note

To Neil....