I buried the past, yet flowers still rise from the soil of forgotten memories

I buried the past, yet flowers still rise from the soil of forgotten memories, Roots tangled in dreams and longings that stubbornly refuse to die, The earth retains traces of pain, transforming suffering into petals of grace, Even shadows need light to dance at the edge of silent brilliance. A silent reminder—not everything that disappears is lost, not everything that haunts comes to harm, I step forward, but echoes follow me like footprints left in the sands of time past, Proof that I was there, that I lived and felt, that I still am, still remain, In a world where past and present weave an eternal dance, a song of what once was. I wish to forget, but flowers grow, living memories that bloom in the soil of my heart, Roots stretching, binding me to moments that refuse to be forgotten, refuse to fade, Each step forward is accompanied by the shadows of footsteps left on paths of old, A dance between what I was and what I am, between light and darkness, between yesterday and today.