In the field of golden dreams it stood,
Tall and proud, like a king crowned in yellow,
Its petals unfurling to embrace the sun,
A symphony of color beneath the azure expanse.
Each morning, it turned its face to the light,
Drinking in the warmth, the life-giving glow,
But deep within its core, a sadness brewed,
A melancholy hidden beneath its radiant exterior.
For as the days grew shorter and the summer waned,
The sunflower knew its time was drawing near,
Its leaves, once so vibrant, began to wither,
A gentle reminder of mortality’s grip.
And on the eve of the sun’s departure,
The sunflower wept golden tears,
For it knew, with heavy heart, that it too would fade,
Its once vibrant beauty destined to become dust.
But in its final moments, a stillness fell,
A hushed reverence as the sunflower sighed,
Its petals swirling upon the whispering wind,
A bittersweet farewell to the world it loved.
And as its body crumbled into the earth,
A testament to the cycle of life’s ever-changing dance,
The sunflower’s spirit soared, forever carried,
In the hearts and memories of those who beheld its glory.
For though its existence was but a fleeting moment,
The sunflower left an indelible mark,
A symbol of resilience, of beauty found in imperfection,
A testament to the fragile splendor of life.