To me, it's still a flower!

The fragrance has gone, but not its charm
The colour is faded; the pink of its petal shows no more
The stem has shrunk, become pale and brittle
The leaves have dried, have no more metal

To me, it is still a flower
Its tenderness still delves into the reminiscences of the past
And brings out freshness
From the beauty it had held, which shall always last

To me it is still a flower,
It has some entwined mysteries, some memories added to its cart
And when the leaves protecting it; unfold
Then one can hear the music that rejoiced a heart

To me it is still a flower
Its withered look doesn’t lessens its appeal
Death couldn’t shadow its eternal soul
From sweet remembrances, only sweet intent reveals