Glazed eyes moist with tear
landscape of changing times,
The graying streaks of hair obscure
ages lived and relived sublime.
Squinted in pain and love
to see what one wished not,
if we could see what she deplored,
if we could see what she sought.
Rheum and selfish reason coalesce
to bring perjury of age.
Of wasted youth and solace
so frequent in fallen days.
The winds will sweep time and sand
and age will still fly by,
however strong I hold your hand,
I am lonely still and wry.