*For anyone who had a companion dog that grew old and tired*
I am gazing out across an empty land,
there is not a thing that interests me.
There is no happiness, in any tear I weep,
for it’s so hard to set your best friend free.
Simply there’s no choice in the time of life,
for nothing born can claim eternity,
so comes a time the head must rule the heart,
but it’s so hard to set your best friend free.
Comfort is to reminisce about the past,
and not dwell on what is a personal cost.
I should be celebrating for the love we had;
not mourning about what I have lost.