A/n The Amber Spyglass is not mine. This is just a poem. Please review.

To Will from Lyra

The light was growing dim,

The night would soon be gone.

The morning birds chirped sorrowfuly for us.

And even though I told you not to make a fuss,

I was in the same state,

At any rate.

I can't live without you,

And now I must.

But we will be together,

A little every year.

And not an hour will go by that I will not think of you,

My dear.

And I fear we may never meet again.

But we will.

I will see you on the other side;

Beloved Will.