A week goes by in the wink of an eye.
Friendships fall hollow, old ghosts remain,
carefully tendered by the rain.
Streets of the cities, i have walked
my feet ache from the miles, and yet they
seem a scant pathway to your door;
where I sit now contemplating old dreams that never change
Old longings never subside, they rise in the breast
as tides of change that never rest.
This is the only eternity; what exists in the world.