Withering Grove

In the forest of our dreams, once we danced,

Beneath the canopy of time, we twirled,

Your laughter, like the rustling leaves,

Whispered secrets to the gentle world.

You were the sun, spilling gold on the brook, 

Illuminating paths where our shadows played.

Now twilight lingers, a canvas of blue, 

As memories fade in the dusk, we made.

Each branch we climbed, a promise once green,

Now bare and brittle, the winter winds high,

The roots we entwined now twisted and torn,

In the silence, I hear the echoes of goodbye.

I search for your smile in the petals that fall,

In the autumn’s embrace, where the colors bleed,

Like a river long dried, our love flows no more,

Yet the echoes remain like a haunting seed. 

And the moon still rises, though you’re not around, 

Casting silver on dreams woven bright.

But with each sunset, I feel the sharp sting,

Stars whisper your name as shadows take flight. 

In the garden of longing, where memories entwine,

A wildflower flourishes where our love used to thrive.

Though you are the wind, restless and free,

I’ll cherish your whisper, forever alive.