Beloved

It is not love to love a thing

That dies for such a death may bring

Decrease in what you thought was love

When comes to pass the painful sting

Of time. But love is what may grow

As separation floods the soul 

With tears bear the vessel of

Your longing for the love you know

But how can separation be

When eyes have never been to see

What we believe is our beloved?

It follows then that we and he

Have met before the birth of time

Before the birth of pain and rhyme

For we know what we feel inside

Is from a separation’s tide

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