Emotional Grim Reaper mourning at a grave under a willow tree, misty moonlight, glowing tears, gothic atmosphere, cinematic lighting, ethere...

He knelt before the grave as dawn broke — not to claim, but to remember. His scythe lay forgotten in the dew, and for a moment, he was just a shadow who loved once. He traced her name into the stone with trembling fingers of bone. When the wind sighed, it sounded like her laughter. And Death wept — because eternity had never felt so lonely.