True love, like any other fatal illness, can occur only once in life. It lingers and slowly gnaws you to death. There is no escape, mainly because you wouldn't want to escape the sweet agony that inexorable extinction.
The tree was fine when I saw it last time. I don't quite recollect how long ago that was. I do recollect the tree was fine. Now I see it again. All shrivelled up, The glorious leaves gone, So too the pride. It looks old, Maybe feels old, wasted, useless What happened to you, old friend? What bolt of destiny struck you down. I doubt you will ever hold that head up again Against the sky, against the wind, against time. But don't you worry. We are with you. Shrunk, shrivelled, shaken down No matter. We are with you.
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