Flowers

The lives of people soon will cease to be And time will be no more than seeds that sprout the flowers hiding beauty. Cloaked by clouds and darkness, scared to show the pulchritude. The flowers die amongst the bodies, die Amongst decaying, rotting, lifeless limbs. The flowers stay beautiful. Staying true To natures calling for them. Quiesce The night when nature falls beneath the ground. The flowers, they resist the urge to fall Below the surface, amongst the deceased Petals and stems and leaves of plants that fell Below the surface. They resist the urge To die, with death deflating life and soul. The flowers know if time will grant their death It shall occur in times where death is gone. It shall occur in times where darkness dies. It shall occur in times where light returns. It shall occur in times where life arrives. Because if beauty finds itself in life, Then life no longer needs to place itself Around the death, the darkness, the lifeless limbs That fall as nature falls beneath the ground. The flowers holding beauty for the dark, And dead, no longer holding meaning for life.