They said that love was a long journey,
But it finds its refuge in the hollow of hands,
When the clamor fades, when shadows converge
To redraw hope upon a face that understands.

I carried burdens, I crossed the winter,
And every carved word resembles a scar:
It no longer bleeds, it becomes a companion,
And lends to silence a clearer breath so far.

To love is to stand firm despite the storm,
To lay down arms, to choose truth as norm,
To trade armor for fragility,
And finally see in the other the simplest dignity.

May this day be the echo of true tenderness,
The one that knows how to heal what time can distress.