Oh I remember, gracious moon, how, as the years slid over the horizon I would come with complaint, full of anguish and tears to the same trembling light that today hangs over the woods. All adrift in my eyes, by your face still the wreck of my life, for so little has changed, dear moon. I have come to remember the age of my pain, and what it was like to be young: how large was the hope and how brief the memory of things. Through the enduring sadness that well familiar pang.
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Went out of my way to log in just to say how much i love it.
Feels sad and desperate. Maybe a little too close for comfort.
Excellent capture of despair. Very much an "Hours passing, opportunities receding. Do you understand?" feel. Those lines of the years sliding over the horizon and "how large was the hope and how brief the memory of things" strike like hammers. This poor subject. Haven't we all been there ourselves?