The Rose

once so splendid and elegant,
my yellow petals my joy,
i was lovely and alive.
but the icy weather came too soon,
bringing death with her.
i am a wilting rose,
perishing in the winter frost –
for i bloomed too late,
my petals weedy and ugly,
my stem fragile and brittle.
the frost chills me to my core.
i am a sorrowful sight; wrinkled petals and a dejected stem.
all light and life has departed me.
death clasps hold of me,
and i welcome him gladly.