His heart trumpeted at farewell's belated kiss
But it was the wind in the trees, not the wish upon his lips,
That carried with it sorrow's burdensome cry
His silence howled with hope's closing eye
But heartache cares not for time nor age
As she ran off, ink from his page
A bellowing cacophony arose from the dawn
The mutinous plea of his heart's own atman
This beating cry strove for the light
Yet none can escape love's amen, goodnight

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