My delight is to be treated with love.
But I am a child; are their secrets above?

When I look at our people, at the sparkling stars.
I realize what a legend has been ours.

With sure age, the bloom will fade.
But in our minds, the jewel of wisdom was laid.

Storms pass and trouble us with pain.
Yet healing words on the mind have lain.

Winter comes and then again a waking.
But it shows a world still in the making.

Sweet times have been spent, with faces dear.
Time shall efface and death did tear.

Our hearts shall carry remembrance as a token.
For the dead are not gone, while their names are spoken.


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