The rose

Her love had wilted like the petals of the winter flower

and as much as she had cared for it, nurtured it, willed it to grow

she could not help but admire the way the icicles formed amongst its dead roots

but it was a fatal attraction, a lust that would melt into nothing but lost tears

she knew it so well, knew it was something she should not want

yet found her fingertips crushing the stem of a flower she once loved

and pressing longingly to the frozen blankets of frost

and as the days passed, she grew colder and colder

her heart wilting just as the flower that had long buried into soil

and she lay there, not caring for anything but the hurt in her heart

but as she closed her eyes for her final sleep,

she felt the warm kiss of heat

the grey skies dissolved into blue

and strands of gold filtered through

a puddle of chaos lay all around

but amidst the anger,

the pain,

the sorrow,

in the corner, grew a single rose