I wrap my hands around her, and whisper words of love.
I promise what I cannot, and vow to return, and to love still, and always.
We gaze at the horizon, our feet in the water.

"Will you come back?", she asks sheepishly.

There before me stands my lady, as beautiful as I have ever seen her.
In fear and trepidation, I say "I will", and she grins, and then sheds a tear.

She knows this to be the last time, but she does not mind.
She lives in the ever so brief moment, escapes my grasp, and marches.

She marches, and she is no more.