The dried, dark rose
Concealed within the pages of my diary
Whispers countless words
On a full moon night
When the heart is soaked in love
And chained by memories.
Those are the words
That were left unsaid
Like an unsolved puzzle,
An incomplete play,
Or a beautiful portrait
Left half-colored midway.
You perhaps wanted me to solve it,
But I was no master at the craft
I was too naive for mind games.
Dawn arrives with a new hope
The neglected, dried rose
Sigh at an incomplete story;
I quietly close the diary
Unchain my heart from the memories
And get back to reality.
Linking this poem with Prompt Nights – Love’s a night-song sweet sung by the tender strokes of wind – Valentine’s Day Special and Poetry Pantry #340
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