A Dead Rose

A dead rose lying alone -
The redness of its soul blown!
Where is the beauty?
A mirage of its duty

That dead rose once so fresh!
Yet a weakness in its flesh
The dead truth hidden under -
Mysteries create a wonder

Now the beauty flourish never
Can't thou see it's dead forever?
The rose lost its charm,
The scent no longer can harm.

Yet treasured is this rose.
The deadness it entirely shows!
Why - thou shall ask,
Since the glory has been masked.

The dead rose too special
For memories, it is crucial
An exchange between two souls -
An identity of the same goals.

Engulfed with entire bitterness,
The journey ended with darkness.
Yet the dead rose desired!
For tomorrow - it's required.

A dead rose lying alone -
The redness of its soul blown!
Yet it holds a hidden meaning.
The dead rose is still explaining!