Wilted, Whispering

Though the ground is dense 

She won't be hidden 

It's dark,

But she grows.

Her little shoots

Finding any cracks in the stony surface. 

In the light, still weak

She stumbles and bends

But she grows, 

And she grows.

Her roots become strong,

Her silhouette lean,

Long,

And he shines.

She's vibrant

Rich.

And free.

Unbound from that

hard foundation

That hid her, left her cold

No one care for others glitters

When looking at her gold.

On a bright fine day

The cord is cut 

And the knife severing the tether

Gleams as bright as her dreams.

But

One week gone, her beauty dims.

She needs him

The petals fall,

She needs him not

Her blush goes grey,

She needs him

Body limps,

She needs him not

She

She needs him. 

And as ashes to ashes

He accepts her 

Wilted, whispering,

And finally understanding

Why the sun needs sadness 

A dark outline to the light.