chances.

you gave me a bouquet, wilted purple / violet,
how they flew from my hands,
like deconstructed industrialism.
she's throwing roses, like flowers in her hair.
muses for the ladens in their sorrow.

how careless i could be with your love,
if like glass, pedals shatter, would you trust me?
i'm gentle still, and quiet.
hush, the mountains they are arriving.

i'm no one for you though, with
this glowing heart and burning fever.
i'd burn forever, in these days,
melted soft with wind blow.
oh but you, with the medal armor.
how daring!

my love must fall apart.