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