The Good Life


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The years melt away; and time does not exist.

I look through your eyes, and see you in the sun

In another place and time where our paths did not cross-

But now to return to the living.

Mutual sights, but different roads

Both leading to this same nowhere-

But now to return

Now to return.

What has there been

But steps, stages, permanence;

What can there be but to recapture the hope-

To be as if reborn in the mist-

To be.

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