Chronos

The beauty of a flower
is best appreciated
by leaving it be,

untouched,
causing a universal enchantment.

Yet, there's a time for prunning
the painful part-    shearing sting
that turns petals to dust-

the season of kissing our
futures goodbye
yielding to scythes wielded
by Chronos.

Mighty Chronos
I will run from you
till I hear stories
of your death
and drink from
jugs of athanasy-

I am no flower.