Goodbye my Rose

I once held a rose in my hand, whose deep red hue made me feel loved by all the world.

I seeded her,

I raised her,

I cherished her,

But she was not mines to keep. I raised her for the world, for the world to hold her. And whilst I held her in my hands, I delighted in a delusion, a selfish little secret...that I could keep her world in my heart and I could be her world forever.

Alas this rose is not for me to keep and I will outlive her most tender moments, but I cannot outlive the love she blesses unto the world.

I only pray that one day, from my decaying body in my grave, I may seed another rose from which I shall nourish with all my heart and all my soul...and that one...that one last rose...should be me, so I too can give my love to the world one last time.

Hence forth, for one fleeting instant, in the blossoming of that rose - the world could welcome me for one last time - with a fleeting smile.

Goodbye my rose.

Goodbye.