This heart that bleeds unwounded to the sight
must bear the loss, and though the days advance
as years to me, I retain that ageless light
that love does bring, belies its simple glance
when lovers pledge this mystery of chance.
As straight the poles compel the needles aim
the compass points with memories of the past
these tears I cry to part me from the pain
when in love believed, this love I then became.
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