Dead flower symphony
DEAD FLOWER'S SYMPHONY
Sitting beside the smallest grave,
With a wrenching heart, and broken soul.
It smells of fresh grass, a tear I gave,
A sigh in my heart, where grief takes toll.
When shadows fill the memory jar,
My dreams blur, everything turns to dust.
When fog’s sword cuts each single flower,
I take deep breath, in grief and silent trust.
Aiming to touch you across a mile,
Our invisible red thread makes me smile.
I pick up grave’s dust with grief and pain,
And sing forgotten song to heal, to mend.
I wish not to reverse the ticks of clock,
Nor change the fate’s design, I must amend.
But cherish memories of what was once mine,
And mend my soul till sorrows meet their end.
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