Wilted Love

Wilted flowers display
The tale of my love
Who would be blamed?
Who was fair…
And who was not
(If we could justify war in love)
The seeds of an enmity
Was sown by me
Forgotten are the fruits of joy
I had once been sharing.
*
Now that I have a habit
Of bleeding…
Every now and then
The answer to my tears
Are as dew on leaves
Though my roots were grounded
(I never build castles in the air)
My stem were uprooted and cut
Forgotten, that I carried life
My wounds wouldn’t so soon heal.
*
My shoulders droop
I am laid lifeless and drunk
In porcelain white jar
(Among other red and yellow roses)
For you to undauntedly admire me
You have accused my thorns
To prick you where it hurts
As I grasp for my last breath…
I will be not around to tell
You strangled life out of me.
***
At least I have this comfort
My fragrance would linger
If not at all to haunt you
(For you to remember…)
The last token of my selfless love.