By JH Sayyar
O love, not born of fleeting lust or flame,
But rooted deep where steadfast hearts abide,
Thou art no game, nor chase for worldly fame,
But the gentle light that ever does not hide
No tempest shakes thee, nor do seasons turn
Thy course astray, for constant thou move.
In thee, the fire of patient stars does burn
A quiet strength, the soul of selfless love
When beauty fades, golden youth decays,
Thy glory blooms fairer, untouched by time.
For in the darkest night or in weary days,
Thy voice still sings a grace; pure, sublime.
True love is not a spark, but sacred fire
A bond that grows, yet never shall expire.
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