In the shadowed alleys of Paris, where whispers dwell,
The cobblestones echo tales of silent farewells.
A gentle breeze carries the scent of bygone days,
While shadows dance in the moon’s soft gaze.

Beneath the arches of ancient bridges, spirits sigh,
Their stories woven in the tapestry of the sky.
The Seine flows with memories, both tender and deep,
Cradling the secrets that the city keeps.

Among the gravestones where the lilies bloom,
Time stands still, enveloped in a soft gloom.
A gentle nod to those who rest below,
In the eternal embrace of the earth’s gentle flow.

Yet in this quiet, life and death entwine,
The beauty of existence in its fleeting design.
In the heart of France, where history’s shadows play,
Death whispers softly, guiding the living’s way.