Aging and withering from time
The discoloration is so sublime
The rose we had used to shine
But this aging turned it to grime
Color is falling from this rose
The stains in each thread compose
The dreaded memories that you want to dispose
The rose now lays, with a death defying pose
The living was drained from this life
The reaper is standing there, along with his scythe
Staring in the eyes of death, there's no sign of strife
The discolored rose, has been stabbed with a knife
Be always safe,
Karen