Joy and sorrow,
Long days and longer nights,
Left now as nothing
but a memory.
Can i grasp the essence
Of that first innocent fall?
Remember what seemed
so clear,
so timeless,
Never to come again.
And even those perfect glimpses
Now just feeble reconstructions;
what i remember i remember.
In mimicry of Lethe
Time washes over me,
And i struggle
to keep those lights of the past
Flickering still.
Do i 'Rage, rage against the dying of the light' (1)
Or do i plunge
candle into water
And let the river take it all?
The river is warm,
The light is cold.
The light brings pain
as well as joy,
The river, oblivion.
My upraised arm falters.
My grasp loosens.
1: Dylan Thomas, thanks Dan