Kuro-shi Somemaru - Dried Flowers in Our Hands (2024)
In the meadow where the wild winds weep,
We walked hand in hand as the sun would sleep.
Golden fields turned to dust beneath our feet,
And memories whispered in the breeze so sweet.
Dried flowers in our hands, like echoes of the past,
Each petal a memory, too precious to last.
We hold onto moments, though they slip away,
In this meadow at the end of summer’s day.
The colors fade, like the love we knew,
Leaves us wondering what else we can do.
But we gather these relics, these blooms so frail,
Hoping to keep alive a fading tale.
Dried flowers in our hands, like echoes of the past,
Each petal a memory, too precious to last.
We hold onto moments, though they slip away,
In this meadow at the end of summer’s day.
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