Love, the quiet strength that fuels the heart,
A silent vow, a timeless work of art.
It speaks in glances, in whispers soft and rare,
A presence felt yet scarcely seen in air.

It builds in moments, small yet deeply bound,
Not in grand gestures but in common ground.
An anchor firm amidst life's restless tide,
A steady hand when lesser lights have died.

Through days unspoken, through nights held apart,
It holds a language fluent in the heart.
With patience grown from roots unseen, it waits,
Defying chance, defying winding fates.

Love finds its grace in acts, serene and mild,
The gentle calm that soothes the restless child,
The quiet strength behind each steadfast choice,
A silent song without the need for voice.

Its depth is not for outward gaze or show,
Yet in its depths the truest selves will grow.
And through all trials, seasons lost and won,
It holds the promise: two will grow as one.

So here, with tender strength, love finds its way,
A force that guides us gently, day by day.
A vow that in each fleeting breath persists—
The quiet truth of love, that simply is.


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