In shadows deep where whispers hide,
Our love, a tale untold,
Bears scars unseen, through time we’ve cried,
A story bound in fold.

In gardens lush where roses bloom,
Our smiles mask the pain,
For beneath the joy, there looms
A silence, a hidden stain.

The laughter shared in moonlit nights,
Conceals a deeper sorrow,
For in our hearts, away from lights,
Lies a fragmented tomorrow.

Our kisses, soft like morning dew,
Yet heavy with unshed tears,
Speak of a love, earnest and true,
Entwined with silent fears.

In gentle touch, a story lies,
Of dreams we dared not speak,
A tale of love under starry skies,
Yet fragile, and oh so weak.

For every glance that spoke a thousand words,
There lay a secret untold,
A symphony of unsung chords,
In our hearts, it unfolds.

In our whispers, soft and low,
There’s a quiver, a hesitant pause,
As if our hearts, in their quiet throe,
Hold a clause.

Unspoken wounds, like shadows cast,
In the light of our love, they hide,
A testament to a stormy past,
In the depth of the tide.

Yet still we stand, hand in hand,
Braving storms, we dare not name,
For in this silent, unspoken land,
Our love remains the same.

So here’s to the wounds we do not speak,
To the battles unseen, but felt,
In our love, both strong and weak,
Where all pretenses melt.

For in the end, it’s not the words,
But the silences that tell,
Of a love that’s deep, beyond the herds,
In its silence, it dwells.


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