Past Shadows

<br>Now far I am from you, before my fire alone, <br>And read again the hours that so silently have gone, <br>And it seems that eighty years beneath my feet did glide, <br>That I am old as winter, that maybe you have died. <br><br>The shadows of the past swift stream across life`s floor <br>The tale of all times, nothings that now exist no more; <br>While the wind with clumsy fingers softly fumbles at the blind <br>And sadly spins the fibre of the story in my mind... <br>I see you stand before me in a mist that does enfold, <br><br>Your eyes are full of tears, and your fingers long and cold; <br>About my neck caressing your arms you gently ply <br>And it seems you want to speak to me yet only sigh. <br>And thus I clasp entranced my all, my world of grace, <br><br>And both our lives are joined in that supreme embrace... <br>Oh, let the voice of memory remain forever dumb, <br>Forget the joy that was, but that nevermore will come, <br>Forget how after an instant you thrust my arms aside, <br>For now I`m old and lonely, and maybe you have died.