This is beautiful!
With every passing sunset, and every fleeting moment
we grow older and wiser, but worn and weak.
The only will we have left in us, is our will to repent,
repent from what we failed at, from what we seek,
repent from what we feel was wrong, but we did it nonetheless,
and the opening we came from, so spacious in our innocence,
O! how vast it was, grows small, terrifying I confess.
Or perhaps we have outgrown it, perhaps it makes sense,
what we came to conquer, what we came to liberate,
is now our prison, and our watchful punisher.
The light we could see so clearly yesterday, must now abate,
we can die escaping, or we can die fighting a lost war,
The only thing that keeps us going, keeps us alive
is not some absolution, some forgiving sigh or heave,
we live, because it is a hopeless…
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