i’m a withered flower 

plucked before my prime 

 

i’m a curled petal 

on my corpse they dine 

 

i’m the yellowed pages 

falling into ash 

 

i’m a tattered banner 

wind-whipped fabric thrash 

 

i’m a faded painting 

vibrant colors greyed 

 

i’m outdated language 

words, o thou doth fade 

 

i’m a burnt-out city 

kings, they ruled inside 

 

i’m a dead religion 

gods once living hide 

 

i’m an old used vinyl 

skipping jumping track 

 

i’m a worn-out lyric 

substance do i lack 

 

i’m a stagnant puddle 

taking in the flies 

 

i’m a curdled milk jug 

those who drink me die 

 

i’m a sun-blazed field 

drowned in sunlight blind 

 

i’m a withered flower 

strangled by my mind