FADE

A bouquet of vocabulary is blooming on my page, 

Fragrant, aromatic, wafting up – provoking the senses. 

Words pungent and exquisite, caustic, and melodious, 

Bittersweet and velvet soft, caressing and spurning my heart in turn. 

Words – harbingers of possibilities, causalities, and sadly, generalities, 

Gardens of infinite and sumptuous fare on which the impoverished soul may feast. 

Words are weapons and lovers, seizing me in their firm embrace, 

Burgeoning like roses, enticing me to drink in their beauty, but – OH! The thorns... 

Causing me to surrender then sequester as I strive 

To comprehend their intent upon my feeble mind. 

I hunker in utter darkness, stroking the petals, willing the scent to not diminish 

Yet the more I clutch the fragile flowers, the more their vision slips away.