SWAN SONG
Voiceless questions, questioning eyes,
a masked seeking to touch the unknown;
the longing for answers, I delicately hide.
Will I stay when I am gone?
From a distance too vast, I look back
with an aching body, dried tears, and
tired heartbeats slowing down.
Cold winter night doesn't make me shiver,
the winds bring me messages of Spring,
I don't move.
At the end gate, time to say goodbye.
Will I be remembered as the soul with wings?
Did I leave enough behind?
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