I’m sorry that I hadn’t the time

To murmur a last goodbye

To wish you the best in life

And to find your wings and fly

I

But if I sang this lament

To close our youthful days

Would it arrest the hope

That one day we’d merge ways?

I

Perhaps it’s better this way

To leave such words unsaid,

Harbor the notion we’d finish them

To soothe my weary head

I

And now I watch you turn

Disappearing down your road

While chilling tendrils beckon me

To a shrouded path, my own.