In the gardens of love, where roses bloom bright,
Amir Khusro’s pen dances in the moonlight.
Verses of devotion, in every line he weaves,
A tapestry of longing, in each heart it leaves.

Under the starry canopy, his words take flight,
Singing songs of Sufi saints, in the silent night.
His couplets are rivers, flowing deep and wide,
A timeless melody, in which souls confide.

The mystic’s ink, a bridge to the divine,
Painting dreams of unity, in every rhyme.
His poetry, a lantern, in the dark it glows,
Guiding lost hearts, wherever it goes.

In Khusro’s verses, a world unfolds,
Where love and faith are treasures untold.
A poet, a sage, his legacy profound,
In every whispered word, his spirit is found.