Time does not bring relief, you've all lied.
all who told me time will ease my pain.
I miss her in the weaping of the rain;
I want her at the shrinking of the tide.
The old snows melt from every mountain side.
At last - years bitter lust must remain.
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.

There are hundreads of places I fear
All in which holds me memory of her presence.
Entering with relief, there is a quiet place far beyond.
I say, 'there is no memory of her here! ' as I stand...
as I stand here stuck in my mind remembering her.