In the quiet room where shadows dance,
Her gentle laughter no longer rings,
The air is thick with timeâs expanse,
Yet in my heart, her spirit sings.
Her hands once cradled dreams untold,
Now rest in peace beneath the sky,
The warmth of love that wonât grow cold,
A beacon bright, it will not die.
Each tear a tribute to her grace,
Her wisdom woven into night,
In every corner, her embrace,
A guiding star, a steadfast light.
Through whispered winds and twilightâs glow,
I seek her voice in rustling leaves,
In every dawn, her presence flows,
A gentle balm for one who grieves.