Let me
Heal beyond
What
I can do
For myself

I see a dead river
She sings
A forgotten tale

We are young.
How young?
Where will we be
When
We are old?
Who we will wish
To see?

Am I always dancing on questions of old
And
New?

Am I
The questioning man?

Let no role be
Personified.

Let no role be
Encompassed.

Let no legend ever
Be
Fulfilled.

I'm the last riddle of
The
Puzzle
Of
The saying that proves
That you two
Are
In love.

I'm,
The,

Last Resort.

Sad
Eyed

Pretty of

The Highlands;

You make the beauty of the hills sing;

You make the misery of the world sing.

I can recall a moment when
I became you and you became me.
We walked within each others shoes
We laughed; we danced; we enjoyed

Each others other loves.

And then the clock bell rang,
And we were beckoned back to our former selves.

We listened to the wake of the crossing river,
Hitting the rocks and the shore lines of trunks,
Meeting the shores and the winds weak meet of their effort,
An aggressor if we could have met them, face to fcace
Mace to mace

We stay what we are
Until we perish,
Leaving nothing,
But our vanished bodies but our
Everlasting

Memories.