Whispers of a Wilted Flower
Why love a flower, soft and bright,
When petals fade and wilt from sight?
Why love a flower, soft and bright,
When petals fade and wilt from sight?
Why hold it close, though time is brief?
Watch it wither, filled with grief.
Maybe since its bloom is sweet,
A moment’s joy, so pure and complete.
A fleeting glance, yet it stays,
Guiding us with light till the end of days.
We start as buds, so small, unseen,
Part of something strong and pristine.
With love and care, we stretch and rise,
Bloom reflecting the earth and skies.
Like a flower so tender and true,
The more we are loved, the more we bloom.
Though time may take what was once bright,
Our roots remain, our love, our light.
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