Once a flame that burned bright and true, now a flicker of what once was. A relationship that had warmed the hearts of two souls, now a dying ember, struggling to stay alight.

The laughter that had echoed through the halls, now a distant memory. The whispers of sweet nothings, now a faint whisper of what could never be again. The eyes that had once locked in love, now avoiding the truth.

The weight of silence hangs heavy in the air, a constant reminder of what's been lost. The attempts to revive, to reignite the spark, now feel like a chore, a desperate attempt to resuscitate something that's been dead for a long time.

The memories linger, a bittersweet reminder of what could never be again. The tears fall, a mourning of what's been lost, of what could never be regained. The heart, once full, now a hollow shell, a reminder of the love that's been lost.

And yet, even in death, there's a beauty to be found. A reminder that love, no matter how fleeting, is worth the risk. For in the end, it's not the duration of the flame that matters, but the warmth it brought, the light it shone, and the love it shared.