When first you came to call my name,
Your voice flowed on the breeze;
You spoke in colors from the fields
And whispered through the trees...
...but I ran chasing butterflies
And held my freedom dear—
For I was but a carefree child
With ears too young to hear.
When next you came to share your love,
Your passions moved the skies;
The thunder shook the sultry air
And grace flashed in your eyes...
...but I pursued my empty lusts
And spent my heart on youth—
For I was but a foolish lad
Still lost within my truth.
When oft you came to guide my path
On fleeting winter eves,
You marked my days with fading blooms
And swirls of withered leaves...
...but I demanded vain rewards
To covet and accrue—
For I was but a selfish man
With too much else to do.
When last you came to take my hand,
You found me all alone;
My hair was frosted white with age
And life was cold as stone...
...but with a smile you warmed my heart
And healed these sightless eyes—
Now I am but a child again
In search of butterflies.
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