Dying Flower

Succumbed by my overlying petals that only reveal I'm everything but living.
When I try to instill the wetness in my roots that give out I'm ceasing.
my leaves indulged by the dark crows searching for death, they found it in its purest form, when they sucked the sweet nectar from my bloom.
Left nothing for the buzzing dreams to use it, all for good intentions.
The heat burning the already ashed ashes I left, such beauty unseen until its gone.