But Should I Regret?

Photo by Tiago Perestrelo on Unsplash

Roses explode
Into crimson pieces;
The air is hot
And sweet,
Worlds collapse,
Cool down,
And die
As I look at the clean-cut
Marble lines
Of her face.
But no tear of sadness
Touches my eyes
And I do not frown
My brow,
For a dozen new
Beautiful worlds
Are born
That same moment