I no longer walk barefoot through this garden of forgotten time

I no longer walk barefoot through this garden of forgotten time, where the grass, once the silk of summer, now scratches my soles with memories, here, in this enchanted soil, bloomed a flower that stole my soul, an earthbound spell transformed into petals that sang to the touch. Perhaps someone, a faceless traveler, came and stole it away, leaving only the echo of their footsteps in the corners of my silent garden, and I, left as a guardian of the waters, hold in my hands springs of longing, that were meant to nourish its life, to lift its song to the sky. Now, however, I no longer walk barefoot through this sanctuary of lost dreams, the grass, once a caress of the wind, now cuts deep like the blade of a past, and every corner of the garden bears the weight of an unspoken mystery, a murmur left from times when the flowers were my confidants. In this silence, I weave my thoughts with the threads of the grass, seeking answers in the shadow of footsteps that vanished at dawn, and I wonder if I will ever find that enchanted flower again, or if I will remain just a keeper of water and bygone tales.