At That Hour

The soul of me, for you, for the world;
What else have I to give, what have I gained
from my life that is mine unless unfurled
to the storm of time, then battered and strained
against the tether of attachment? Test
becomes testament beyond the power
of words to convey, that which is the best
of me remains, is only, at that hour.
Though we are each only, unite alone,
and save as we are; that soul as is born
I have borne back to you, not to atone
for being, seeing, feeling that is shown
from my time, to atone for all the time
that you were within me, but not yet mine.

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