Pale Hues of Love

Like a dry rose of great pale hues intact,

I seem to find thyself distressed alone.

The complexion of red to darkened black,

Of hopeless nights where inner scars are shown.

One cannot fail to bare the foul truth  

When all that you left behind is sorrow.

Mem’ries of your grin and laugh leave me ruth.

With dreams to see thee again tomorrow,

I wait. Knowing that dream will not come true,

I grasp every moment of boundless love.

Until these sere petals fall out of lieu,

At time’s command, we will meet up above.

Hand in hand, fate leads us, it is settled.

A dry, fair rose consists of no petals.