A wind from another time,
so distant it echoes like dreams
forgotten upon waking and desperately escaping,
fleeing from my grasp as the night
flees before the coming sun
But greatest beauty lies in the rebirth,
in the death, of shadows,
in the giving up of the horizon,
in the giving up of my heart to memory,
that though forgotten cannot be lost
And we are all as dreams,
as dust and shadows, as suns to rise and set,
horizons that part only to always meet again,
eternal -
Separate but one.
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