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Lost at Sea
As we draw near to the end,
and I approach the western clouds
through wrinkled eyes and darkened shroud,
I would call to my dear friend -
How I remember the heavy sigh
when we left Eden - Eve and I.
Grow old, my dear, grow old with me;
you the meadow and I the tree.
In my youth I tried to trace
how minutes to hours to years would be,
but missed the tear upon your face
that fell to the water - lost at sea.
