I remember a day-- So long ago now-- When a hand Slipped into mine, And the world Seemed Wonderful and warm. Now I grow older, The hand in mine Just a memory; I am empty And alone. Was what was done The only way My Universe could unfold? Was it Fate And only this, Which cast our lives apart? Could I have been Stronger, holding Longer to the love We shared? These questions, Like my hand, Are empty, Answerless, silent. Who will tell me What it was For which I fought And lost? Who will bind up My broken heart?
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