Written in 1977 for a friend's wedding.
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you never need answer the past...
the questions it may ask are meaningless
when the next sun rises and the yesterdays
fall beneath the tread of the tomorrows.
don't sell your soul for riddles...
for answers are what you need--far more
than a puzzled pause of confusion or
the look of silent embarrassment's sorrows.
our destinies once lay on different paths...
but roads have a strange and wonderful way of
merging just beyond the next hill--and now we
glide through life, together, on a single trail.
nothing in this life is truly free...
but you'll find my love freely given
to you in great modesty. it is all I have
to offer. yet, beside it, the sun shall pale.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.