A sad conversation from a man in the back

He speaks low
In melancholy tones of brass

A picture of the darkest bloom amidst a dim light

The waning moon

He speaks louder and i begin to see the flower
Faded but glowing

Wilted yet growing

A rose in between life and death
Clinging to life but enjoying decay

The conversation stops

His words fade
A picture of the moon and tones of brass remain

At last i see it

Lost lovers enjoying decay