The last winds of the summer blew,
Hot against my face.
The last words I said to him were,
“I hope this is my fate”.

Move on she said with a parting smile,
Move on, I told myself.
Yet in this fix, I was again,
That left me feeling quite vile.

He was standing right there,
And so was she.
Why was this hard?
What had come over me?

These questions arose from a place within,
A place of seclusion,
A place of sin.
And in this place I found the answer,
To something that was as swift a dancer.

What is to be shall be, whenever.
What is to end, will burn in flames.
What brings the end is fear and hunger.
What brings the end is a lack of faith.

What you have now,
Hold on to tightly,
For you know not what the winds will change.
All good things can turn with time,
Or last forever within a clime

But know, that love,
Once tested and tried,
Knows no feeling, just a loss of pride.