In quiet hours, where soft winds sigh, Remember not the tears, nor bid goodbye. I lived my days, a fleeting dance, With what I held, I took the chance. As time adorned my hair with white, The memories softened, not as bright. Yet in each breath, each fading thought, A life well-lived, with love was wrought. So do not mourn, my dear old friends, For in your hearts, my journey ends. In whispers of the past, I'll stay, A gentle echo, come what may.