Parting

The twilight of five years approaches quick;
Our sun is setting in the quiet skies.
The flame must soon engulf and leave the wick
And we must part, and fade, and cry good-byes.
Our time has come to sail the turbid seas,
Roam lost, rave loud, and never find our rest
Until Time's wisdom finds in its decrees
Reprieve for all: the weak, the poor, the blest.
And you, who follow in our bygone ways,
Must hold our torch of memory. When we
Are gone, fix not some stony hearts or gaze
Upon some false, misleading jubilee.
In passing now we leave to you our home,
Where mem'ries once did live and still they roam.