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.