In fields where petals whisper softly,
The flowers sway, a fleeting dream.
The sun’s warm kiss, a lover’s promise,
Yet shadows loom, as death redeems.

Each bloom a tale of vibrant glory,
Their colors bright, a vivid scene.
But time, relentless, weaves its story,
And soon they fade, no longer seen.

Beneath the earth, where roots entwine,
Life’s cycle spins, a solemn waltz.
The flowers wilt, their spirits pine,
As death’s embrace, in silence, calls.

Yet in their fall, new seeds are sown,
A promise kept in nature’s grace.
For even death, in shadows known,
Brings forth new life, in endless chase.