Every 37 miles
Two tears roll down my face.
The path they trace is one you knew so well.
They tell a tale of misery,
A history that tortures me.
I'm on my journey
To be free at last.
Each place I pass,
Each stack of stones
Recalls a past
When your sweet love
Was kind enough to warm my flesh,
Hot enough to steal my breath.
That fire burns within me still
And will until my death.
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