Bold was our love
Swept away in the chariot of Apollo
Following in wingéd destiny
The path of a cooing swallow.
Hot was our love
Our arms wrapped around the sun
We burned with a glory
That Prometheus had begun.
But like airy Icarus alight,
Our love melted and was gone;
It sank sallow into silence
Like the neck of a dying swan.
Cold is our love
Freezing thin in the hole of Hades
Its only warm breath lives
In this print that soon will fade.
Our love is just a chronicle
A written tally of an age
Like the myth of golden gods
Moulding yellow on some page
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