When Love Leaves Behind The Rose
When love leaves behind the rose, a silent token,
It's a whisper of what once bloomed so bright.
Like autumn's last leaf, beautiful yet broken,
It speaks of passion that faded with night.
This flower, a relic of the heart's sweet song,
Stands sentinel to memories' gentle sway.
Its petals, like pages where feelings belong,
Tell tales of love that couldn't stay.
In this garden of bygone embrace,
The lone rose holds time and love in place.
Still, the rose I shall embrace
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