night and day in loveliness;
a potion of the
sweetest scent and
the deepest red.
For me it crystalised
the ultimate perfection,
its beauty of such depth
that I was drowned in it.
I only saw it once,
and held it in my hand.
I let it go and walked away
and though next day I searched for it,
I found my rose had gone.
It's now in someone else's home.
How soon before its beauty palls?
How soon before its petals fall;?
How soon before its mystery's
lost?
How soon before our
treaures all turn
into to dust?
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