My fragrant love still lingers there,
In faded petals, thin as air,
Within the pages of your diary,
Where time lies still, yet memories fly free.
A wilting rose, once kissed by spring,
Still holds the dreams we dared to sing,
Its crimson bleeding into rust,
Its velvet yielding to the dust.
Forgotten, perhaps, but never gone,
A dying dusk that cradles dawn,
A silent flame beneath the snow,
A secret only our hearts know.
In every vein of every petal,
Love defies the mortal, the fragile, the metal,
And breathes its perfume, soft and deep,
Through promises we could not keep.
Dead, yet alive, it flows through you,
A haunting red, a tender blue,
It hides beneath each heartbeat's sound,
Where lost desires still circle around.
Do you feel me when nights grow still,
When moonlight spills upon your windowsill?
When shadows stir and dreams take flight,
Do I return to you each night?
I am the fragrance you cannot erase,
The vanished touch, the unforgotten face,
The whispered ache beneath your skin,
The love that died, yet lives within.
And when that rose crumbles, petal by petal,
And time declares our love unsettled,
Remember, darling, what the years cannot sever!
Some loves may fade, but they die never.
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