Imprint

This steadfast journey must at last be done,
Your spirit flown to realms beyond my reach;
Devotion, ardor, fealty may not breach
Grand fortune’s faculty to call or shun.
And yet your soul and mine must be as one,
Without even the power to beseech,
Like two tongues synched in strange immortal speech
Or bleeding colors fast together run.
If in the next life I draw breath
My eyes may fail to see just where
These inner imprints carry you,
Yet with you I have been infused;
There is no seal for fate to tear
Nor call away by ghastly death.