If there is love and grace in this world,
It is in beginnings;
To bear our heavy hearts through solemn drift,
Make our peace for those who’ve gone,
And toast to the departed.

Now a catalyst for greater joy,
We rest in our partings.
For all the wealth and lust we sought for solace,
Spread poison through our veins,
And shadowed our eyes.

No more we fade through flickering lanterns,
And cowering canopies.
The meadowlark’s greeting finds its soft inflection,
As the weary fox,
Commits his final sleep.

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