By JH Sayyar
When proud towers answered passion’s call,
Now silence holds the midnight’s eager flame.
The might of youth must bow to nature’s thrall,
Yet hearts remain untouched by grief or shame.
Though age or stress dim love’s golden spear,
The jest still flows, and laughter fills the room.
True friends stand close when tempests appear,
Wit may bloom where once did roses bloom
Let not the flesh define the soul’s delight,
Nor judge the man by what may rise or rest.
For bonds of trust shine brighter than the night,
And courage dwells within the humbled chest.
So raise a glass — not flags — in sweet accord
For love endures where friendship is the sword
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