He looks back now
at the words he once wrote
with such effusive passion
and dauntless hope
in the heady days of youth
when life felt endless
and love eternal.
In one regard, I must say,
he breathes easier now,
at least for a time,
knowing so much better
what ideals really mean
and what it is that hope,
in all honesty, represents.
Those whose hearts
breathe blissful being,
careless of tomorrows,
may yet happily know
the fulsome joys
of love so very pure
and unrestrained.
But everything changes,
and nothing weighs down
with greater severity
than to see the ponderous
decay of primal passion
when the light of adoration
is slowly extinguished.
George Ellington 