You are made of dust, I am made of light
For to be eternal, one needs to be dust
I fade out, absorbed by you
I know there is a universe of reasoning
That negates your need or desire to reach out
Casting my calling to dimensions of irrelevant
Yet, I seem to yearn for you in any possible way
I have written words, they have often meant
This one sounds silly, seems almost a lament
My intrusions only seem to invite your ire
To only hasten my perpetual fall from grace
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