A rose. A lament. A past.

- He had brought to you his final flower

    Final flower picked from my garden

 

    All red like a stained white linen with 

        Blood 

        Or red wine

        

        A rose.

 

- You had written several sad letters 

    Sad letters too painful to read

 

    Everything described with harrowing

        Truth

        And brutality

 

        A lament.

 

- The little lovely private bubble burst all onto the horrible real

    The horrible real world from which we were so far!

 

    All that special dust and, love

        Gone

        Or lost

 

        A past.

 

Love, the saviour

    and the sin

Fell to from

    the grace

          of

            a

              girl

              tied

            to

              lace

         and

           pearl

         when I

Planted, the seeds

    of my despair

Beneath the roots

    of her

           greasy

           auburn 

             hair.

And happiness 

    lent its hand

             when

         Nature opened

               its arms

               and we

         both

                      fell 

                          in

                                                           together.    

Map of the Galaxy

Painted with oil on wood; a map detailing the shape and star contentions of the distant galaxy Slavokius.