The Old Frangipani

While I’m as beautiful as a rose 

I am as deadly as a thorn 

I watch the waves pass by 

As I stay in my sandy soils

I taste the salty air among my bright, coloured petals

I am now 100 years old 

Growing and growing 

I have seen many generations 

As I stay in my one spot 

Observing the boiling bright sunset

I'm no longer as beautiful as a rose

But I'm still as deadly as a thorn 

I only watch the waves pass by 

And stay in my polluted soils 

I taste the thick air among my dying petals

I am now 150 years old 

Growing more weak by the second 

I don't see many generations anymore 

And I am slowly fading away 

All by myself with no one realizing