Beneath the weight of grief’s relentless tide,
Where shadows linger, and the heart must yield,
A softer voice, a quiet light, abides,
To mend the wounds no time alone can heal.
The earth still turns, though loss has stilled the air,
And every dawn is edged with tender pain.
Yet love remains, a flame beyond compare,
A whispered vow: their light is not in vain.
The winds that sigh through ancient oaks and pines
Carry the echoes of their cherished song,
A melody that threads through fragile minds,
A promise that the soul still journeys on.
In every tear, a memory takes flight,
In every ache, a bond no death can break.
Their laughter dwells within the quiet night,
Their love, a gift the heart will not forsake.
So let the sorrow come, but not despair,
For in the stillness, consolation grows.
The ones we’ve lost are never far, but there,
In every bloom and every breeze that blows.
Jan 19, 2025
Jan 19, 2025 at 9:15 PM UTC
Beneath the weight of grief’s relentless tide,
Where shadows linger, and the heart must yield,
A softer voice, a quiet light, abides,
To mend the wounds no time alone can heal.
The earth still turns, though loss has stilled the air,
And every dawn is edged with tender pain.
Yet love remains, a flame beyond compare,
A whispered vow: their light is not in vain.
The winds that sigh through ancient oaks and pines
Carry the echoes of their cherished song,
A melody that threads through fragile minds,
A promise that the soul still journeys on.
In every tear, a memory takes flight,
In every ache, a bond no death can break.
Their laughter dwells within the quiet night,
Their love, a gift the heart will not forsake.
So let the sorrow come, but not despair,
For in the stillness, consolation grows.
The ones we’ve lost are never far, but there,
In every bloom and every breeze that blows.
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