Only one promise did you ever break
and left a dozen of roses in its wake.
Twelve, like the rounds of the sun
I had to wait for you to return.
Turns out your word then cannot still hold true.
While the seed of love planted then
was quick to take root, in its dormancy
it wasted and withered never bearing its fruit.
This love first given never fully returned.
It lay dormant like words not found
that might have otherwise kept alive
these passions again briefly ablaze.