In fields where silent shadows play,
The flowers bloom, then fade away,
Their petals soft, a fleeting breath,
Whispering secrets of eternal rest.

Beneath the moon’s pale, ghostly light,
They dance and sway in solemn night,
A symphony of life’s last song,
Where beauty fades, but love stays strong.

The roses red, like blood they weep,
For those who lie in endless sleep,
Their fragrance sweet, a mournful sigh,
A tender kiss, a last goodbye.

In nature’s arms, all things must end,
Yet flowers bloom and hearts they mend,
For death is but a gentle friend,
Who guides us to where sorrows blend.