빈티지 문예
Soft velvet drapes the morning air,
A hush upon the garden fair;
The roses lean with gentle grace,
As twilight paints each petal’s face.
The breeze was shy, the roses bold,
Yet none so fair as you to hold;
A glance, a sigh, a breath so near—
The world grew still, for you were here.
Though time may steal the light away,
My heart shall bloom where you once lay;
For love, once touched by truth and grace,
Leaves not a mark—but carves a place.
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