There is equally a word of love somewhere.
For the darkest hours of the wakeful night,
At the end of which is a beautiful dawn.
For the loss of innocence of childhood,
There is the growing maturity of years.
For the loss of a life near river green,
There is lot more sunshine to equal.
For the trenches that this life fell into
There are the new scales that it climbs.
For the years lost in search of dreams,
There are these words pn a virtual page.
Which brings in daily, strange comfort,
For every friend lost, that of strangers.