Abstract: Dead Flowers
Through the dry hot summer sun,
into the long winter nights,
I brought flowers to the grave of what was.
Stubbornly and with both hands,
I refused to give up hope.
I let my heart believe,
you would come back to me.
In faith I held on,
and now,
in faith,
I let go.
Resurrection is the work of the Lord,
not my dead flowers.
