When the Roses Die

Watery tears drip down from the sky,
Washing the garden with a sweet bath.
As the flowers dance in the dawn,
Will the clouds predict the aftermath?

Soft winds entrance the growing buds,
Caressing the petals with a gentle ease.
As the furious tempests send their children,
Will the sun make the pain cease?

Lights flicker off of the thick dew
And the airs are filled with dark rage.
As the divine winds from above fall,
Will the stones predict this coming age?

Unfathomable fate is like a source
Of all the wrongs that nature evades.
As the zephyrs battle with the garden,
Will the garden honor all that fade?

War was created in its own by time,
And so was it how sky defeated frail earth.
As surrender blankets the broken ground,
Will solace have a chance for rebirth?

When it is known that not all can last,
Will the earth mourn for its loss then?
When the roses die in dawning light,
Will the petals burn until the end?