Point in Time

The fate of time knows dearest friend
More so, than our minds comprehend
Before I loved you, I knew your spirit
I saw your image, and did not forget

But you-no longer recognize my face
Without being or knowing, the we erase
Here, immortal in a world of quiet doom
Where flowers grow and never bloom

Of hell, I know the burning intimately
Suffering, I choose to set you free
I love you from where, why, or when?
Somewhere, now a mere blot of a pen

Of time and water and waves and pain
Of time and water and waves and pain

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