Blossom Tears

Soft petals drift in whispers, silent and unseen,
As tears fall like blossoms, gentle yet keen.
A dance of sorrow, delicate and pure,
In the garden of heartache, it lingers unsure.

Beneath the moon's quiet, silvered glow,
Dreams once vibrant begin to slow.
A symphony of silence in the midnight air,
As memories bloom, frail, and rare.

Each tear holds a story, hidden and deep,
In their journey downward, secrets sleep.
A petal for love, a petal for loss,
Each fragile piece at an unknown cost.

The scent of longing, like mist it clings,
Awakening echoes of forgotten things.
They drift and settle, soft and shy,
Caught in the breeze of a silent sigh.

The roses fade but shadows remain,
Etched in the earth like traces of pain.
For each blossom tear that falls in grace,
A memory finds its rightful place.

So let them fall, these blossoms of night,
In the quiet moments just out of sight.
In their softness, a strength concealed,
In their fading, a wound is healed.