May 2020
I dim the lights of rooms with guarantee
A mirror appearing false I see myself
Old and an antediluvian me
Flattened I traveled on
Desolate, dead I on the desperate shore
Only showing a fragment of what I lived
A mirror appearing false I see myself
Old and an antediluvian me
Flattened I traveled on
Desolate, dead I on the desperate shore
Only showing a fragment of what I lived
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day- Elegy Written On A Country Churchyard, Thomas Gray
