If I should be so unfortunate as to be the last to say goodbye,
I will surely know the bittersweetness of what it means to truly love.

I fear, though, in these years of sorrow, such pondering has not availed me. So many have come and gone, like leaves caught in the wind.

The seasons change; a chill air stirs. The snows of winter drape my shoulders in a grayness that burdens me.

Frost colors the windows with a chill from within these weary bones, As rays of sunlight filter through; they offer me no warmth.

I watch; my eyes have seen the shadows that await— The many who have come and gone: vague shapes, distortions, haunting
voices that have tormented me endlessly through the years.

It's over. I have no more tears to shed; they have filled this sea before me. I sail upon its waves, free, no longer remaining to say goodbye.