She gave me a rose
Once in a dreary
winter evening,
With a promise
of a new one
once it withered.
Little do I know
that it was
A strange rose
that seems to not
fade with each
passing day.
I had my eye
over it
and the scent
emanating from it
would take me to
realm of
Magical realism
sooner,
it became normal
And,
Sometime after this,
Interest rejuvenate
when each morn'
would i witness
the beauty of a
silver droplets over
its Velvet red petals'
as though someone
had cried over it
Or that
the draughts had laid its
icy hand.
This too subsides.
I had started to
care less,
Until one day,
it started to wither!
In vain I tried
but nowhere could
she be found!
Now,
Its stem has dried
its petals has withered
Yet,
it remained dear to
me as has ever been.
I would breathe in
in all volume to capture
all its smell and
would hold it
so tight that its thorn
plunges the skin
giving me
a sudden rush of pain
in a way that
to me is
beautiful.
Over and over
I did do.
Because,
this dry intimacy
is what keeps me
Alive;
For I know,
I once had a ROSE!
-SLIM
