No song
is meant to last
forever..
There always comes
the day when music dies.
The wiser ones among us
don’t attempt
to bring it back to life..
Only a hopeless fool
has the naïveté
to try.

I count myself
amongst the fools
not any longer..
Through many
painful trials
I, indeed,
have learned..
There is no magic
in the words I write,
it’s all just
mirrors and smoke.
Whatever of it
that you saw..
was probably
your own.

I don’t lament
a single ounce of love
that I have written..
neither to others,
nor to God,
nor to myself.
To love and live,
and live to love,
and love to live it
oh.. so.. freely..
has been
my highest..
holiest form
of wealth.