In the days of war, when trenches ran deep,
Men etched their love on paper, emotions to keep.
Ink spilled like blood, sincere,
Letters exchanged, a lifeline to hold near.
Words penned with passion, amid the battlefield’s roar,
A symphony of sentiments, love’s ancient lore.
Through distance and danger, emotions took flight,
In letters, love blossomed, a beacon in the night.
But alas, in this modern age, a different tale unfolds,
Men bound by screens, their emotions left untold.
The art of the letter, a relic from the past,
Replaced by emojis, a love that won’t last.
In a world of instant messages and fleeting affairs,
Gone are the days of heartfelt, handwritten prayers.
The bare minimum suffices, a like or a share,
Love reduced to notifications, a cold affair.
No more ink-stained pages, no more poetic prose,
Just digital whispers, where true emotion dozes.
In the silence of pixels, love is lost and found,
Yet, in the absence of substance, it makes no sound.
So here we stand, in the aftermath of change,
Where love once written, now feels so estranged.
A lament for the letters that once spoke so true,
In this modern era, where love is overdue.
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