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Twilight
As twilight approaches,
I watch the moon and wait
while my pen runs away from cliché’s
into the silence behind my ribs;
I loved the man for years
before noticing he never
understood anything beyond
the surface of his own skin;
It was worse when I was twenty;
life had no beginning or end;
I could barely even remember
how to be alive;
Time is indifferent to youth;
she is the piper leading you
into the mountain
from which you will never emerge;
As twilight approaches,
everything,
in autumn, seems to die.
Autumn is not the season of dying. It is the season of maturated leaves beauty. Even if something dies, it rises again.
Yes, however, what you’re reading is a subjective point of view which is why the line states that everything “seems” to die, not that everything does die. I don’t find it necessary to be very pedantic when it comes to poetry.