Roses on Her Grave

When i watch the sky turn gray from a midmorning fray, i take my day inside the stringent darkness that continues to surround me.

When you say that you should of stopped it, but it turned out you couldn't stop the decay.

Tears blisten in the sinking Sun, and you realize the times aren't fun.

You hope for the best, when the leaves have fallen, and turned back to no return.

You hang on by a thread, wishing you were dead. But somehow water pours down on your cheeks, in the bleak mist.

You try so hard to follow Life on your own, but you soon notice you can't live alone until the life has been lost in the lurking frost.

As the snow falls after the leaves, you start to believe that it should of been you but when all along it was not your fault.

You then get back up, fighting for what you truly believe in, until that last Rose has fallen off the stems of grace.

But now, all you can do is keep looking forward until the time has come, to face the demons amongst the hidden.

You don't stop, you keep moving. Even if the pressure is beyond little.

As i watch her die, i sense the last ounce of warmth in her hands. I hold on to the last part of life she still has left- inside my heart.

Even if hope seems laconic, her heart will never fade. Even at the last strike, my heart is still full of vivacious memories of the one inside the marooned casket.

Her life remains in my heart, until the last image fades away- i will be there with her. Always.