as we walk into the night
all of life disperses
never knowing what is light
or how the soul traverses
the reason too dark to speak
distance measured by the fading peaks
the rolling trails of scenes so old
the memories of streets paved with gold
the distant laugh
the lovely myrrh
the loaf of bread
and the tiny stir.
but now we move on ahead
with nothing to loose
but our daily bread.
measuring life in distances we seek
saying goodbye to those fading peaks
where the rolling trails of scenes so old
reminding us of the streets of gold.
au revoir
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