How like a flame in fickle wind;
how fragile love, if 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 distant shore.
How love erodes as earth abides;
each grain of sand as those before.
How can I live if love will die;
why does love come, if it must go
How bittersweet was your 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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