I turned to you one day and said,
"I am alone, for true"
At that you rather looked perplexed, and said,
"I'm here with you"
But truth be told, and given due,
As I am so inclined,
That statement did but nothing,
To ease my troubled mind.
For though you sit beside me,
Sure as the tree stands on the hill;
As flowers die before the winter,
You won't forever sit there still.
As the seasons turn like cart-wheels,
And the sun bolts through the sky,
As 'cross the ever-changing firmament,
The blue green Earth will fly,
As wars are started, ended,
As the future comes around,
We'll spend our time together,
As he seeps into the ground.
And some day, decades beyond us,
As I sit here and look about,
There will be no-one left beside me,
For your time will have run out.
And so that is why, on borrowed time,
I made to turn to you,
And told your fleeting spectre that,
"I am alone, for true".