Encircled finger on left hand
Stills the wandering lust as
Runs the sand
Of time forever promised
There at a time when one did not care
Did not care for vows made
In windblown haste
When years rolled endless
Thoughtless of waste
That lied ahead around the bend
Of blank spots unspoken
Of months dissolved to years
When excited talk tumbled
Seamlessly to passion bed
Would become a season
Sere unspoken dead
And camaraderie attachment
Closeness and familial embrace
Would stand in stead in passion's place
In the ring
Stilled screams melt into sigh
For remembered times gone by
As in the ring one lives the lie
Curls comfortably and waits to die
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