By JH Sayyar
When silence falls where once voices played,
And echoes haunt the rooms they used to bless,
The warmth they gave, in memory, must stay
A light within the soul’s cold wilderness
Their hands that held through stormy years,
Now rest beneath the earth in quiet sleep,
Yet still they soothe the heart’s unspoken fears,
And teach us how to love, to lose, to weep.
O time! Thou thief of all we cherish most,
You take the bloom and leave the withered vine,
But not the love—no, that we do not boast,
It lingers still, a bond by cruel fate’s design.
Though flesh falls to dust, hearts must part,
A parent’s love lives on in child and heart.