Youtube stutters, a symphony of “maybes,”
Each video a question, every beat a doubt.
A thousand choruses, a million melodies,
Yet none quite capture what our love’s about.

From soaring anthems to whispered serenades,
Each lyric hints at what we can’t express.
Can waltzes hold the joy of whispered shades,
Or punk rock anthems our foreverness?

Will trumpets blare the triumph of our vows,
Or a slow ballad paint the tear-filled scene?
Will upbeat tempos chase away the hows,
Or folk songs soothe where shadows intervene?

But maybe music, in its grand design,
Is just a canvas, awaiting our touch.
The notes, but mere whispers of yours and mine,
The space between them, filled with so much.

For when your hand finds mine, and eyes entwine,
No chord, no verse, can hold the light we share.
Our dance, a rhythm only love can define,
A melody born in hearts beyond compare.