In the garden where the lilies bloom,
A whisper of life, a hint of doom.
Petals soft, in colors bright,
Fade to shadows with the night.

Roses red, with thorns they speak,
Of love’s embrace, and life’s mystique.
Yet as they wither, drop by drop,
They tell of time that never stops.

Daffodils in golden light,
Shine with hope and pure delight.
But when the season comes to end,
They too, must with death befriend.

Flowers and death, a tender dance,
Life’s fleeting beauty, a transient trance.
In every bloom, a silent plea,
To be remembered, eternally.