| To cherish ... |
| The chains we wear are of our making No one forced them on our back Yet give us freedom for the taking Would we notice e�en the lack? On ourselves the coils that bind The vows through death and sickness last Yet be it cruel (or be it kind) The wise man knows when parting�s past. How far will you beguile the Fates How far their spinning taunt? Firm threads do not respond to baits A dead ghost will not haunt. �Tis but your conscience rubs, my dear The memory of each minute You made your bed with every jeer Now rest you well within it. |
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| � 2003 Kyle Altis. All rights reserved. |