My eternal story

There was a time so beautiful erstwhile,
When a scintillating red blush would follow my smile.
With the colour of love my petals flushed,
Like a falcon I would get the heartbeats rushed.
Resting on a throne of sparkling shades of green,
I was a precious offering to the king and queen.
Little pointy mountains guarded my throne,
I melted the mightiest hearts, all on my own.
None could second my exquisite floral fragrance,
Smooth and tender, blended with velvety radiance.
But now that I wither as time spares none,
The demolition of my throne has also begun.
Neither the sparkling green, nor the lovely red,
But a dark black-brown rust has become my scarlet.
The mountains eroded, flat dry land remained,
My beauty, my radiance, my vibrance drained.
I almost lost myself in some abyss of dread,
But an angel clasped me like a vintage at its best.
With the warmth of her touch I once again rose,
Like a perfect dream I smiled for her, in my pose.
Even on the brink I stand as the death dawns upon,
She made me the rose of a story that shall eternally live on.