Why do the songs
Of those who sing of life
Bring the remembrance
And visions of you at my side?
Perhaps it is as anything else
Looking for what is to be seen
Listening to the little wren's song
Thinking of what could have been
Or never was
Naught to be grasped like the stars
Staying only within sight
Illuminating only the deepest of scars
With eons of light
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