In the garden of memories, shadows softly creep,
Faces blur and names escape, a silent, endless weep.
The laughter echoes faintly, in corridors of time,
Moments once so vivid, now a distant chime.

The mind, a fragile canvas, colors slowly fade,
Stories of a lifetime, in twilight gently laid.
Eyes that once sparkled with tales of yesteryears,
Now gaze into the distance, through a veil of tears.

Hands that held the world, now tremble and retreat,
Searching for the fragments of memories bittersweet.
Voices call from far away, in languages unknown,
Leaving hearts to wonder, where the spirit roams.

Yet in the silent pauses, love’s light fiercely gleams,
Through the haze of Alzheimer’s, in fleeting, tender dreams.
For though the mind may wander, the soul remains the same,
A beacon in the darkness, whispering your name.