Like a rose - A1
if you haven't heard it, it's quite an old song, but remains top on my list. So check it if you haven't already.
So I was just talking to Sinner about Roses & it reminded me of this thing I heard ages ago, most of you probably have heard it but I find it extremely cute, so let me write it out before it slips out of my mind. Okay, I have no idea how to start it, I just wrote one line and it looked really out of place so I backspaced, maybe I'll write it in a form of short story.. See how it goes..
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Against the chilling breeze, her cheeks flustered and he gently brushes his thumb across her soft cheeks, wiping away the little drops that dampened her face and glistened her eyes. Time does not wait for anyone. As each painful minute passes by, she tries to savor each and every moment of what's left they have between them. In the silence, they stood, one hand in his, and her other one grasping tightly onto the golden plastic decorated cellophane that wrapped around the bouquet of 12 red roses given to her that evening as a gift.
"I promise to love you until the last rose dies," he whispered as he leaned closer to plant a kiss her forehead, then turned and walked away. She wanted to hold onto his warmth, his last presence, his last gaze and inhale him into her one last time, his cologne familiar and it excited her inside, but she couldn't. The warmth of his kiss still lingered, but he was already out of sight.
Unable to react, unable to comprehend, unable to chase after him. She knew he was gone.
Speechless and confused, their love so clear and transparent, she knew him like she knew the back of her own hand, but why does he feel so foreign now, so distant, so far and it crushed her because she knew something was not right.
She aches as he takes a part of her as he leaves, her world in slow as she watches herself fall apart. I love him, she murmurs, the sudden wind gushes by and deafens her words. Roses never last more than two weeks and neither will his love for me.. She felt a sudden tightening in her throat, her breath shallows and she starts to fight back the forceful tears that rushed down her face again. Her emotions overpowers her physical strength and she's left crouched and violently controlling and fighting away her tears.
The roses started to die one by one, until there was one left, the rose remained as a red, just as beautiful as the day she was presented with them. Curious but afraid that if she touched it, it would turn into ashes before her eyes..
Truth was, he handed her 12 roses that night, 11 real ones, 1 fake and vowed to her that he would love her til the last rose dies..
& of course all you smarty pants know the last one won't die..
Okay, so my 'smarty pant' friend said, let me quote:
Lily: Or you can interpret it as the last rose is just as fake as his love for her.
Real humor huh =.='
Awwes, all too sweet, haha as you could see I got lazy towards the end. My truth is, halfway writing I realized I could of just wrote it in one sentence and two lines. Wasted my effort. ANYWAYS time to sleep & I don't want to keep Sinner up with me as well. So let's all rest. Goodnights and good rest blog readers.
Love,
Cynthia
Against the chilling breeze, her cheeks flustered and he gently brushes his thumb across her soft cheeks, wiping away the little drops that dampened her face and glistened her eyes. Time does not wait for anyone. As each painful minute passes by, she tries to savor each and every moment of what's left they have between them. In the silence, they stood, one hand in his, and her other one grasping tightly onto the golden plastic decorated cellophane that wrapped around the bouquet of 12 red roses given to her that evening as a gift.
"I promise to love you until the last rose dies," he whispered as he leaned closer to plant a kiss her forehead, then turned and walked away. She wanted to hold onto his warmth, his last presence, his last gaze and inhale him into her one last time, his cologne familiar and it excited her inside, but she couldn't. The warmth of his kiss still lingered, but he was already out of sight.
Unable to react, unable to comprehend, unable to chase after him. She knew he was gone.
Speechless and confused, their love so clear and transparent, she knew him like she knew the back of her own hand, but why does he feel so foreign now, so distant, so far and it crushed her because she knew something was not right.
She aches as he takes a part of her as he leaves, her world in slow as she watches herself fall apart. I love him, she murmurs, the sudden wind gushes by and deafens her words. Roses never last more than two weeks and neither will his love for me.. She felt a sudden tightening in her throat, her breath shallows and she starts to fight back the forceful tears that rushed down her face again. Her emotions overpowers her physical strength and she's left crouched and violently controlling and fighting away her tears.
The roses started to die one by one, until there was one left, the rose remained as a red, just as beautiful as the day she was presented with them. Curious but afraid that if she touched it, it would turn into ashes before her eyes..Truth was, he handed her 12 roses that night, 11 real ones, 1 fake and vowed to her that he would love her til the last rose dies..
& of course all you smarty pants know the last one won't die..
Okay, so my 'smarty pant' friend said, let me quote:
Lily: Or you can interpret it as the last rose is just as fake as his love for her.
Real humor huh =.='
Awwes, all too sweet, haha as you could see I got lazy towards the end. My truth is, halfway writing I realized I could of just wrote it in one sentence and two lines. Wasted my effort. ANYWAYS time to sleep & I don't want to keep Sinner up with me as well. So let's all rest. Goodnights and good rest blog readers.
Love,
Cynthia
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