How like a flame in fickle wind,
how fragile, love, when old or new
that, with a breath, comes to an end,
that, with another, glows anew.
How turn the cycles of the tides,
in waves, toward a battered shore.
How love erodes, how earth abides,
each grain of sand as those before.
How can I live if love can die,
why does love come, if it must go
How bittersweet was our goodbye
and how, my love, was I to know
that you could go and yet remain
the glow of love's eternal flame?
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