unaware of the surroundings,
her beauty raining down upon the room
as a trace of a dying hope in the black void of life.
The soft petals, fabric of the dreams.
The thorns on the stem, blades of pain.
It just lays there,
mute witness of a life broken,
forgotten promises and faded goals.
The white rose withers silently,
her beauty escaping with a muted cry.