So Shall It Be In the End
What choice has bittersweet despair,
A dying rose,
An empty chair.
Shall I then grieve and weep for thee
And temper broken heart and soul
So I can cherish one more gaze
Of happiness, of summer days
And bristle with abiding love
Of life cast now in shade and brook,
This ebb which pains with force and fate
United soon through heavens gate.
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