Forsaken on the tide, 
Mere petals in the water, 
A dozen roses discarded. 
They ride the waves, 
They endure the cold, 
The snow, the rain, 
The wind, the pain. 
They lie in desolate disorder, 
The ruins of someone's love. 
They do not wither, 
They do not die, 
The sea beats them mercilessly. 
Cruel laughter beats the air, 
I want to cry but I no longer care. 

The passion that once was, 
I see it in their misery and swirl. 
The need to be held and hold. 
What is it like, I wonder, 
To be trapped in the bounds of sinking petals? 
To not see your own suicide? 
Something I would never abide. 

Element of Desire
By Charles Moffat

Oh element of desire 
And scourge of the liar 
A light that grows taller 
In search of new power 
A symbol of man's endeavor 
Of triumph and valour 
Of failure and disaster 
An icon of the Devil's ire 
Yet so tiny a flicker 
Does out shout the loudest crier 
And goes so much higher 
In rank than any sire 
It is never for hire 
Never goes to the highest buyer 
It knows no master 
And follows no leader 
Still it is a mystery with a long lure 
Many generations have stopper to ponder 
What does it come fro,? they wonder 
What gave them the idea to end their mire? 
To leave behind the cold and tame the winter?