In the rhythm of his words, love found its form,
A melody of hope in the darkest storm.
He painted dreams with gentle grace,
A tapestry of cultures, each finding its place.

His pen danced across the page,
In whispers soft, love took the stage.
Through Harlem’s streets, his verses soared,
A symphony of souls, forever adored.

With every line, a heart was mended,
In unity and strength, love extended.
He spoke of dreams that dared to fly,
In the vast expanse of a limitless sky.

Langston’s love, a beacon bright,
Guiding us through the long, cold night.
In his legacy, we find our way,
A timeless love that will never sway.