Ever have I loved thee.
Like wandering pilgrims we were lost
Our love made to wait.
Far from our castle of dreams
Our ships on stormy seas tossed.
Blame naught but fickle fate.
As I thought thee gone
Lost in the dim world so grey
Weeping and crying “too late”.
The spark in my heart carried on
Quietly sleeping, bemoaning the day.
Loving you always,
Now thank fickle fate.
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