Bequethal

Fear not, Sam.
The years shall pass like water
and on a white beach further than the West
we shall meet again,
never to be parted.

Such is the Gift.
Not for aeons must we wait,
but only a few short years.
Great is the One
who made his mortal children so.

Your tears will dry,
soothed away by little hands
and Rose's loving arms.
Live your life.
Await our day in peace,
my dearest friend.