Thousand forms

As I ran through the years of time,
you followed me in a thousand forms.
You were a shadow on an old wall,
a quiet voice in the evening’s calm.

And when I was almost left alone,
you returned in a thousand forms.
In half-forgotten words of a song,
in a glance among the city’s noise.

You were the wind that touched my face,
a distant star in the silent sky.
You were a memory finding its way back
in the warmth of a vanished summer.

As I kept running through time again,
you were always there, somewhere softly.
And when I thought you had finally faded,
you were born again in a thousand forms.

For what lives within us never truly leaves,
it only changes and quietly returns.
And if one day I should stand alone again,
I know you will return in a thousand forms.