'Even if it remains,steadfast& strong,Even if it fades,d f fading into dusk,Even if it never blooms,trapped in silent buds, The poet pens their verses,inked with love's brush In awe of their muses x,they weave tales untold,A myriad ofvpoetry cascading from their soul ,,through the windows of their eyes,reflect tionsv x unfold,Capturing the essence,making broken hearts whole