The full rose of delicate charming pink,
Her color exuberant with visions of promise.
She glowed in the sunlight a perfect picture
Of the confidence and grace,
So admired.

Time expanded,
Her stem grew entwined with another.
A white rose,
A rose so blank She could project any colors She wished unto it.
The brightness of the imaginary colors warmed Her.

She inspected Him closer.
A horror was spreading from the base of His petals.
One She had not noticed before.
Blackness bleeding like ink in veins of His petals,
Dripping, spreading until all that was bright was consumed by gleaming dark.
The petals She had once admired as white and strong
Turned black and flimsy.

Drip.
Drop.
Splash!
A seed,
Of the consuming darkness, had fallen onto Her.
The invasion was now shared.
They weakened together, but not.
For both were consumed in different visions
Spawned by the disease.

Over time He withered.
Then, crumpled.
Now without even the burden of his presence to fill Her,
Her mind ran to her former days of beauty and sunlight,
She had to now endure the dripping darkness, and Her wounds,
All alone.

She was withering.
And as She crumpled she realized,
That if She had never felt desire for his presence, She would still remain,
In the light.