Life is funny: completely filled with unspoken, sometimes unnoticed, irony

I am repeating with devotion the same mistakes again and again, like a ritual.
As if repeating them would justify them.

Do you see what i see ,
The moon is on the hill,
The evening cries a melody,
The whipper will the chorus,
The symphony that sings to me of old forgotten fears,
And to my eyes it brings gentle flowing tears,
A goodnight dream a fantasy,
A lost reality ,
The days go by filled with time,
The seasons change yet i remain the same as ever was,
Through aged eyes the season fly through summer autumn spring,
And in the end the winter has become a part of me,
As i lay chilled up on the hill where i lay in peace,
Don't weep for me for you see ill live in memory.