Memories we made,
our twenties like gold,
where time stood still,
and love never grew old.

I grew beside you,
step by step, hand in hand—
of course, I remember,
every moment, every glance.

Those precious days—
our eyes first met,
our voices intertwined,
blindfolded in love,
fingers laced in the winter's cold.
You always lent me your glove,
by the campfire, wrapped in warmth,
hushed laughter dancing with the flames.

I still have the shawl—
woven with love,
stitched with whispers,
threaded with promises.
Every fiber holds a memory,
every word you spoke, a treasure.

We fought, we mended,
love—never fragile, never tame.
We adored the golden leaves,
never once realizing
they were old and fading,
just like fleeting time.

Spring came,
the flowers bloomed,
bathed in honeyed light.
The sunset kissed your face,
orange hues ricocheting off your skin—
My love, how beautiful you are!
I fell for you, again and again.

Summer burned bright,
yet through your curls, I found shade.
We shared icy desserts,
whispered wishes for endless summers.
I drowned in your gaze,
a universe in your eyes—
your touch, a heartbeat quickening,
your embrace, a universe won.

"Don't leave me," I pleaded.
"I never will," you promised.
But love, fate is cruel—
the universe shattered,
taking a part of my heart with you.

I loved you fiercely,
cherished every moment,
every breath we shared.
"Cry, but not too much," you once said.
So, I won’t—
after all, I have always been obedient.

Did you receive the flowers I brought this morning?
I visit you every day, but today feels different.
Today, my love,
is the day you left me.

Memories we made,
our twenties like gold,
where time stood still,
and love never grew old.

Rest peacefully, my angel

Love—so pure, yet so painful.
It either breaks you or makes you whole.
It distracts from sorrow,
Yet can be the source of it.

We dance in the rain,
Our time never wasted, never in vain.
Sharing a single meal, dividing every bite—This is all we can afford, my love.

I have little to give, and I won’t pretend otherwise.
I can’t offer you the moon or the stars,
But I’ll light a lantern to guide our way.
We’ll build a small home, just enough for us—A tiny door, but endless space in our hearts.

No gold, no silver—just us.
Rich in love, standing tall without wealth.
Through the coldest winters, I’ll never leave,
And in every spring, I’ll celebrate you.
No grand journeys, no cars speeding away,
But under snowy skies, I’ll always stay.

With all my heart, I love you.
No riches, no grandeur—just this promise.
This simple, ordinary poem is yours,
Forever belonging to you, my love.

Love—so tender, yet bittersweet,
A force that mends, yet breaks with ease.
It soothes the soul in moments brief,
Yet leaves behind the deepest grief.

We dance beneath the silver rain,
Where time is never spent in vain.
A humble meal, a modest share,
Yet love alone sustains us there.

I cannot promise worlds so grand,
Nor place the stars within your hand.
But in the glow of lantern light,
We'll build a home, serene and bright.

No wealth defines the love we weave,
For riches fade, but hearts believe.
Through winter’s chill and springtime’s bloom,
I vow to stand, through light and gloom.

No gilded throne, no vast domain,
Yet in your arms, all joys remain.
This simple verse, though plain and true,
Belongs forever, love, to you.