Pale Words

Farewell past loves & mistakes alike.
The ticking clock is your greatest nemesis, and I sit firmly on his side.
What a view we have from here, the play back of every wasted breath,
So clear it might well have been just yesterday, though who is to say that it wasn't.
For I have lost track of a day to day pattern, not a structure exists to a week nor a month,
Nor has it for collected week and month periods.
I faintly envisage what then, I considered, memorable highlights, yet clearly now, are more suited to 'just another day'.
Another torn up attempted master piece, added to the ever growing collection of that which I once wasn't.
So in these last moments of life, amid the toll song of the bells and frozen air upon my face,
I bid:
Farewell past loves & mistakes alike.