Embrace so tight,
It faulters.
Claiming the promises of forever,
A gust of wind,
And plan alters.
So what if I gave you all I had,
So what if you thrived on my pink,
And now that you know that I died,
So what if you still think you can drink.
For you’re a bee,
You’ve enough flowers,
And then you have wings,
And that’s how you should be.
The wilting is just for me,
And the pink for you, whatever is best,,
When I am brown and decaying,
Would you come to me when I have left?
Sweet honey gathering you,
Did you even know that I died
Long ago before you ever knew,
And long before the petals dried.
Let me think you come visiting my grave,
For I was so used to it,
You sucking the life out of me
And me serving you my very last bit.
Now that I am gone,
It’s time for you to fly.
Meet some fresh orange or crimson,
You can sure suck him dry.
And then again make love to the dead
For that’s what you like instead
Do it a favor as you wilt him dry,
Tell him his fate and stay while he cries.
For the wilting is inevitable, whatever you
Try
Visit a wilted him sometime,
Not for the nector, not for the pink.
Just for the sake of that embrace,
Which he never thought why.