A Season's Closing
A wind that passes in the night,
came unexpectedly
and gone without a trace.
But your face it did touch,
running through your hair
as they float while it dances,
and patiently listening
to your unspoken emotions
before carrying them away
to the horizon's furthest edges...
Our encounter was brief
a mere season in a year
that quickly passes by
in the stream of running Time
but a fated one, indeed
a precious one, nevertheless
So, here is my blessing to you
before we part our ways:
This one last and final Song
to a friend I find so dear.
Thank you for your friendship.
I had fun,
and it's truly nice knowing you...
Take care,
for the days and days to come.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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