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Yet the flower of our love,
Which grew from the bold seed of out friendship,
Sprouted from the earth in the ravenous garden of my heart.
It grew like an impassioned wildflower
Of some vivid color by which I was blinded.
The coolor of that flower conquered all my mind,
Into a state of longing devotion.
But the flower, so long without sun
Began to wither in the darkness,
Into some crippled state of its former image.
Unrevived by the emptiness of clear water,
Still it fades to let its petals fall,
Where they, to the ground return
As the seed from which they originated.
© 2003 bounce.to/blacklabb
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