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And you look almost angelic to me
As I gaze into your eyes
For what will be the very last time
Tears streak my flushed face
As my hand reaches to stroke your cheek
I bid you goodbye, my lips
Giving you one last adieu
If I could hold you close to me
And keep you near, you know I would
But choice is no longer my companion
Necessity guides my unwilling hand
As if with one desperate stroke
Our love ends in bitter defeat
Weeping for the sorrow of loss
But filled with the grace I seek.