Love…come; we must journey home now,
bid farewell to yesterday’s dead sun,
for storm clouds have gathered to slice the moon,
and we must go before these arid sands
of misfit time ceases to flow.
We cannot add another hour to linger,
for seconds break not only the day,
but the ease of my spirit.
I no longer have goose-like tears to feed the jester,
and because it is so love…we must part.
Walk close, let our footsteps fall as one,
leaving primrose stained impressions,
a legacy to mark our passing,
like un-framed wisps of art.
Come love, we’ll trace the moon back to the stars,
infecting minds with scents of insanity
 as misty eyes plead mercy to our departing silhouette.
Alas, we’ll return another day love, another time,
and space beneath a blue moon’s dawning;
never look back in regret love;
there’s no need to say good-bye.

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