Tenggiling Ubi

A rose cries over a tragic story, accompanying a lover's eternal slumber.  Its petals descend like droplets of sorrow, bathed in the moonlight. The night wind rustles while a memorial mourns in the serene depths of the soul. Memories resonate and persist within a memoir, commemorating a melancholy farewell.  

The sunset we painted with joyful hues now vanishes into night consumed by the darkness. Your laughter is a lovely tune. It once graced the air, and I inhaled to enrich my life. But now, silence dominates amidst sorrowful desolation turning it into a burden of unbearable agony. Within the expansive realm of memory, the blades of grass disintegrated one by one, expressing a deep, sombre longing.

I lie awake at the edge of the bed, surrounded by deepening silence. Our memories are delicately caressed by the urge of passion, ready to be refined. 
The final breath turns into a soft goodbye as the departing soul ascends to heaven like a bird flies into the sky.

The warm touch of your hands has now grown cold. Stories are written but left untold. You depart, guided by a ray of light, leaving behind an unfillable emptiness - a void that the moon silently observes as it gathers my tears.

Lying alone in the bed we used to share, the pain of your absence is a heavy veil. Amidst quiet grief, my heart weeps intensely. Yet, within the vast realm of existence, your essence lingers on as an emblem of eternal love. The stars in the dark sky gleam luminously, leading my heart to delve into the depth of your affection.

She remains present despite her physical absence. The gentle morning breeze is a humble testament to her love, easing the weight of my yearning.

The death of a lover is a dreadful incarceration. 
But true love endures, in the echo of pain.

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