The Flowers Bloom. I Remain

I have watched a thousand springs arrive, and a thousand winters bury them.

Flowers bloom beside me, brilliant and golden, unaware that their beauty has already begun to fade.

I envy them sometimes. They are allowed to live, to wither, and to become a memory.

But I remain.

Faces I once loved have disappeared into centuries. Voices I thought I would never forget have grown faint, until even their names feel like dreams belonging to someone else.

So I stand beneath the black branches and watch another season begin.

Beautiful. Untouched. Eternal.

The flowers bloom. Everyone passes. I remain.

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