Crumbling Poem by Andy Brookes

I kept one rose from the wreath that laid in despair and rage.
whilst growling in titanic grief so hard heavy almost to bear,
yet bear I did and bore it well as you lay bare my soul.
exposed so raw that nearly it died with you.

pressed I the rose in a tome as reminder of sunnier days
but now in its brittle form it lies exposed and falls in dust upon the hand
elusive memories flitter thus, whilst I forgot your face, while you not mine could recall as you lie sleeping in the sepulchres eternal hall.