Our flutes still silently sit there,
reflections engraved within those
                           precious moments.

Sullen clouds linger before us,
                  tears filling an ocean,
now falling like a waterfall of regrets.

That flower, a plastic representation.
You never wished it to fade, like our
love, continual and never wilting.

Within our leaving, fate tore us apart.
             leaving that moment, echoes of
our reflections entombed still holding on.