Death of a Lily

Is it wrong

that I like to watch them die?

They limp from dehydration, unable to stand up straight.

They are entirely dependent on me.

Once I quench their thirst,

I know

they will spring back, burst into life, and spread their arms out

in love and devotion.

I am in complete control,

until I’m not.

It’s when they wither away,

it’s when there is no hope of resurrection,

do I start to grieve.

Do I grieve for their demise?

Do I grieve at my lack of self-control?

Do I grieve at my loss of power?

Do we ever grieve for them?

No god ever did.