We shall meet again—
Not in this fleeting world of form,
But beyond the bends of time,
Where all roads turn to dust,
And silence hums the final rhyme.
You wandered left, I drifted right,
Chasing echoes through the night.
Yet every path, no matter how wide,
Leads gently to the other side.
If your dusk arrives before mine,
Will you wait beneath the pine?
But...
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