Tonight,
Colour will wash from the violet.
Deep purple will splash across the already stained leaves.
The petals, so fragile now, will be on the brink of destruction.
It cannot protect itself.
It has become too weak.
The violet does not know what lies ahead.
It does not know that this is its fate.
If I could have one wish,
I would warn it.
But I do not,
and I must let the delicate flower fall.