The Lament of the Last Bloom

In the garden of forgotten dreams, where the moonlit whispers sing

A single flower, pale and grim, blooms under the raven's wing

Its petals black as the deepest night, drink the sorrow from the moonlight

Whispering tales of the lost and gone, in a world where hope has long withdrawn

Bloom, oh bloom, in silence weep, for the hearts that cannot sleep

In the shadow of decay, your beauty fades away

The air is thick, only the scent of doom, where this flower is the only bloom

Its roots entwined with the bones of time, in a soil of forgotten crime

Each petal falls with a silent scream, echoing through realms unseen

A dirge for the end, for what once was, before the world turned to dust