How might one be happy but by loving? All one is will vanish in the sea. Perhaps the point of life is in the sharing. Perhaps the soul's beyond the shores of me. Years pass, and what does one accumulate? How might one find permanence in time? Only love such hunger compensates, Lending life its beauty line by line. In everything there is, there is a flame Deeper than the passions one can name, An oil lamp that never will go out Yielding light beyond belief or doubt, Source of all that answers loss and pain. Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
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