the path is narrow
winds this wait and that
no one walking my way
no one coming back
winter snow pervades the scene
spring rain brings its sheen
summer warmth and greenery
autumn's golden finery
each step then a life of its own
the path goes on forever
though it seems solid and true
it flows more like a river
the last step taken on our own
no companion there to share
then once beyond, it fades away
till nothing but the echo stays
of a footstep, and the dream
that once we walked upon a path
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