Storytellers Remain, But The Quran Does Not Poem by Mohammad Younus

The ink may fade, the parchment burn,
Yet wisdom walks where voices turn.
Through lips that whisper, hearts that keep,
The sacred verses never sleep.

Before the script, before the scroll,
The tale was breath, the word was soul.
Upon the wind, the truth took flight,
A flame unchained from paper's plight.

When tyrants came with fire and dust,
And time betrayed what hands entrust,
The keepers stood with tongues aflame,
And spoke the word that none could tame.

For what is writ may cease to be,
Yet living speech runs wild and free.
No hands can bind, no chains contain,
The song that rides through time's refrain.

From heart to heart, from ear to tongue,
The echoes soar where once they sung.
Through deserts vast and mountains high,
The message flies, it does not die.

In every age, through every trial,
It finds its way, mile by mile.
A river flowing, deep and wide,
Through generations, side by side.

So long as voices dare proclaim,
The story lives, though books may wane.
For in the breath of those who speak,
The truth endures, both strong and meek.

The Quran's light, up to the last hour,
through the divine decree will never fade,
A living word, a timeless guide,
Forever near, forever tied.

MyKoul