There is a distance between us,
It is filled with raining lament,
A stifled cry against the wind.

The measured echoes of pain
I don't think will ever break,
Perhaps they will shy away soon.

Gone, but not forgotten;
You've retired into the crepuscule
Carried by our final choice.

I will tell the morning of you
And your ocean deep smile,
And I'll raise my glass to the night.