She’s long gone,
Yet the memories linger.
The wounds are painful still,
But they are on the mend.
Scars there will be for a while,
To be carried with pride.
There is a longing in me;
An ache that is unrelenting.
It afflicts all my senses.
My eyes long to see her face,
Whose memory is now receding;
My ears long for her voice,
Whose echo is now dying down;
My nose searches for her fragrance,
So delicate and now fleeing;
My skin wishes it was nearer to her,
But distances too great
Are in between, separating us.
Yet the longing is not so keen,
It is dying down, receding.
The blood hat flowed freely
Has begun to slow.
The pain that I felt is still there;
But not as sharp
As it used to be.
It is now but a memory,
Of things long ago.
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