Book Flower

Angels dew drops cascade down softest slopes of flower petals.
The sunlights rays tenderly carress the plant of silk.
Slender fingers curl gently around the delicate stalk.
A simple pluck ends life so insignificant.
The object of vanity is preserved.
Forever beauty will live untouched.
Encased in warmest darkness.
The essence festers.
Crumbled spirit.
Hollow.

*Once again, this is a project for my Com Lit class. It is called an Avalanche poem. It descends from 10 words, to one word.