All those years fall back between us like chapters in a book, like trees in a dense forest, so far back now I can hardly even remember those paths I took which got me here, lost and alone.
I can hear your voice calling out to me across the years, from that long lost part of the woods, back when our stories had hardly begun. Could we have stayed on that path together, would we now be singing different songs to protect us against these dark nights we spend under the thick over-arching canopy that hides so many of the guiding stars from us?
Still, I am here, and you are so far out of reach. Perhaps we should go on, carry on down our separate paths, perhaps one day, not too far away, we will chose paths that bring us closer together.
Or maybe we will take diverging paths, once again, which mean I cannot even hear the fading echoes of your song of lost loneliness, as another chapter or two of our separate stories grow us apart, and this forest thickens between us.
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