Love's Unspoken Truth

The whispered vows, a symphony of sighs,

Echoing through the chambers of the heart.

Yet often, like the wind, they fade and die,

Leaving the soul to weather love's cruel art.

The crimson rose, a symbol of desire,

Its petals soft, a promise sweet and fair.

But like the flame that sets the bush afire,

Love's words can burn, then vanish in the air.

The silver moon, a witness to the night,

Illuminates the path where lovers tread.

Yet in the harsh and unforgiving light,

False promises lie bare, their essence fled.

So speak not of devotion's sacred dance,

Unless your heart beats true, a steadfast drum.

For love's a precious, rare, and fragile chance,

A treasure that, once lost, may never come.

Let actions be the proof of love's sweet song,

A melody that time cannot erase.

For in the depths of silence, true and strong,

Love's unspoken truth finds its resting place.