It crept in like a symphony unknown,
Pouring into the corridors of my soul and withering them away
Like a dying rose.
Roses now welcomed by the pale wind to swirl as
Images and colors, feverishly tainting the doors to my heart,
Only to slowly creep into my mind likes the sonata of a moaning chain,
The symphony continues………..
As I die a violet death.

This poem was written/submitted by Guy-Adler Dorelien.