Flowers are death alike,
To anyone it seems not it's like,
But the truth is seen deeper than what it should be,
Since death is black and flower is otherwise it seem
We cover ourselves with black when death has come,
We swept our tears when it comes upon the same as ours,
What does it truly mean to be alive?
When everything is supposed to be erased in time
Like flowers on a tree that buds and blooms,
Then soon leaves it's place and goes to the ground to rot and be consumed,
The flower from the sky came to the ground,
To be part of the soil and be gone in drought
No wonder like the world life goes round and round
Like crows of death that flocks around
Death and flowers are alike,
Despite of the difference in the glamour they are truly alike,
So remember next time you see a flower in a shop,
Either on a tree or in a wrap,
Respect life, respect time cause that thing is certain to come,
To everything that breathes it will death shall come upon
picture is from Google
