a garden of memories, I stumbled upon a sight,
Withered flowers scattered, their colors no longer bright.
But as I gazed upon them, a thought came to my mind,
Love, like these flowers, can be withered, yet still kind.

Once, those flowers bloomed, vibrant and full of life,
Their beauty captivating, banishing all strife.
But as time went by, their petals began to fade,
Yet love's flame burned strong, never to be swayed.

Just...