I walked in the garden of life,
caressing soft petals here and there.
And lo! After a while they are no more,
and my heart bled for each fragrant petal that fell.
If every flower withers
never to return to its full blossom,
then what good indeed is passing by
in the garden of life?
Herein lies my hope:
That for every flower that withers,
another one blooms within me,
one that will remain
forever fragrant and fresh,
never ever to pass away.
Find hope in your darkest hour.
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