Love is a many-splendored thing— It blooms in silence, it soars on wings. It does not fade, nor lose its light, It lingers gently, day and night. It never ends, it never dies, It echoes soft in long goodbyes. Not forgotten, just transformed, In hearts once touched, it's still warm. I do not lose it—just let go, And carry it in quiet glow. For though I’ve learned to move along, Love stays behind... a silent song.