Love is a four letter word.
While all the other buds burst into bloom one dost bow its saddened head. Not for any humility Unable to drink poisoned water like the others it chooses instead its own death. But even in death its darkened petals hardened and dry holds its beauty still. Its youthful beauty darkened unto decay held up to life, Its beauty rests until its fragile shell crumbles in the gust. Unlike the others it leaves nothing behind.