time has stolen my years
has taken my deer like spring
and now i move like a sloth
where my years have passed
now only memories reside,
an empty space doth now replace
and if my spirit is in the wind
it shall traverse through time
riding a stream of a river’s rim
so when the wind blows upon
your face and in your stroll you
dip your toes at the river’s bend
take note of my heart within,
breathe of my breath, for it is my
spirit touching your soul
while my spirit blows in the wind
the blood of my heart lies in the
grass,
for of the earth is where i came,
and so too, where i shall pass
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