They say silence speaks wisdom's truth,
But your quietness drew us apart.
Many times I shared my heart with you,
Whispered love, dreamed of joining hearts.

You never answered with words,
Just smiled and turned away.
I tried to read between your silences,
Yet your true feelings never revealed their way.

Life took turns unforeseen,
Family’s hopes drew lines we crossed.
I moved afar, to foreign shores,
With no trace of you in the chaos lost.

Now years later, I return anew,
Heard you've settled miles away from here.
Still alone, *****, unbound—
How do I comprehend this silent fear?

Your habit of few words, your quiet charm,
Built a distance neither of us planned.
Yet memories of you linger close,
Like whispered shadows, hand in hand.

My books are my dearest friends,
Whispering the stories of life to me each day.
Keep growing, never accept defeat—
The true mark of a sincere soul, they say.

They tell me many tales and secrets deep,
I spend my days immersed in their embrace.
Sharing meals with them, falling asleep close by,
In their comfort, I find my peaceful space.

My books are treasures beyond all measure,
Guiding me to prepare for victory’s call.
With love profound, they enrich my soul,
A priceless gift—the greatest gift of all.