Faded beauty with lasted memory!
Why do you cherish the dead ones so much? He asked! They live forever in between my books… I replied adding… Fresh rose, Cherished for it's beauty; Dead rose, Is beyond the beauty. Fresh rose, Smells so sweet; Dead rose, Smells of memories. Fresh rose, Gives the feel of softness; Dead rose, Gives the feel of the past. Fresh one, Bloom for days; Dead one, It forever stays. Fresh one, Remains with the rest; But a dead one, Is like a secret close to the chest. To which he added, Fresh rose, Has petals so smooth, And with a gentle touch They soothe. Dead rose, Crinkled and dry But holds the whispers Of that last goodbye. And then left….
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