Growing lovely, growing old

The way it was intended

Growing lovely, growing old

What can be seen is passing
for that which can't be seen.
Growing old, growing nearer
we're living in-between.
-
Betwixt begin and ending
the days are numbered well.
Love is calling all to miss
that awful place called hell.
-
Eyes that see what can't be seen
are those that will live on,
for these have seen tomorrow
beyond another dawn.
-
Growing lovely, growing old
no more desire to roam.
Time has taken hold of me
and I am going home.