Rose

The rose only lasts,
A moment or two,
To shine with its beauty,
Bright and new.

Time takes it's toll,
The shine becomes dull,
No longer can it,
Stand so tall.

As the rose dies,
It's petals fall to the ground.
It gasps its last breath,
Without any sound.

The darkness sets in,
To fade it away,
To pieces of dust,
Of black and gray.

Now only its memory,
Has left its mark,
To eventually be,
Consumed by the dark.