The little rose

A last breath, a last batting of times eyelids,
eyes fall of rain, in the depths of ourselves,
within sorrow, pain, and bitterness :
a rose : Alone. Cold. With its favorite dress.

Standing there in steady turning of the seasons,
defying snow, winds and the autumn heat,
inner conflicts for the same repeating reasons;
in addition losing more and more its creed.

Questions running through the little roses head :
Why it has to suffer, succumb to his life.
The years, they pass, rose still suffers to his death.
A seed, a little pleasure, little hope arise.