Pot of Gold

Goodbye, old friend,

I suppose

That our bond,

Like all things,

Shall pale when

Confronted with eternity.

I wish, for you,

Everything

That you dreamed of:

The romance, the joy,

The new friends,

The Devil's own luck,

The pot of gold

Beneath the rainbow...

I refuse to feel bitter

As fate pulls us down

Different paths,

But you ought to know

That I'd deviate from

The beaten track

To carry you when your legs

Grow weak,

No matter how many years

We are apart.

The memories we shared,

The laughter, the tears:

Those moments

Cannot be taken back,

Nor can the connection,

Nor the love.

So, farewell, old friend,

May we meet again.

Perhaps our paths

Shall not cross in this realm,

Maybe the road you follow

Is over my grave.

If that is the case, dear friend,

I ask only

That you think of me fondly

When you read my name;

That you know,

Should the roles be reversed,

I would always do the same.