n the silence of night, when stars softly weep,
Do you hear the whispers, the secrets they keep?
To ask if I miss you is to ask if the moon
Longs for the sun's warmth, in the night's tender swoon.
The petals of flowers, they bloom and they fade,
But your presence, a fragrance, in memories arrayed.
In the vastness of time, in the depths of the sea,
Your essence, a river, flowing endlessly free.
You are the moon, in phases of grace,
Each nuance, a story, a tender embrace.
Even in shadows, we shine bright,
In the depths of despair, through the darkest of night.
So ask me if I love you, till the very last breath,
For in life and in death, you're salvation, the depth.
Speak of me softly, in whispers, not strife,
For in loving you deeply, I embrace all of life.
