Old Soul
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In that we are all a vassal to age
no sceptre or mitre can set us free,
and no fealty can old time assuage
or rail against its synchronicity.
For ever decreasing circles besot
the cognisance of what and who we are,
yet I am not fogged to what time begot
but wise to your end and your exemplar -
of all our earthly labours and pleasure,
and all that was ventured and lost or won
for insofar love is the true measure
I shall be its keeper when you are gone.
Alas, no mortal thing this world outlast
yet still the risen sun your shadow cast.
Written: November 2010
Copyright © Keith D Trestrail | Year Posted 2022
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