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In the garden where memories play, 
A faded rose whispers soft goodbyes, 
Petals curling in gentle disarray, 
Crimson dreams lost beneath autumn skies.

A faded rose whispers soft goodbyes, 
Once vibrant and bold, now dulled with time, 
Crimson dreams lost beneath autumn skies, 
Echoes of love in their silent rhyme.

Once vibrant and bold, now dulled with time, 
Yet beauty remains in its fragile form, 
Echoes of love in their silent rhyme, 
A testament held through the eye of the storm.

Yet beauty remains in its fragile form, 
Petals curling in gentle disarray, 
A testament held through the eye of the storm, I
n the garden where memories play.

A faded rose, in whispers, says goodbye, 
Its crimson hue fading to dusk's soft sigh, 
In gentle curl, time's touch does not betray, 
For in this garden, love's echoes lie.

Once bold in hue, now a muted palette, 
Beneath the autumn sky's vast canvas, 
Dreams of red whisper their silent sonnet, 
In the garden's heart, where peace and sorrow dance.

The rose, though spent, in elegance does stay, 
Its form a cradle for the beauty of decay, 
With love's soft echoes, a silent symphony plays, 
Through the storm's calm eye, where memories array.

In the garden where memories softly sway, 
A faded rose, in its final act, does lie, 
A dance of petals in the garden's ballet, 
Where love and time in harmony, whisper and sigh.

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