My thoughts are of losing sight of onself, PA -- of losing your sense of self -- and not realizing until it seems far too late to go back. But I'm usually off the mark with these things. Poetry, and its interpretation, are such subjective things; we all read on a personal level, and our own thoughts, outlook, and personal experiences all come into play ... but all of that is part of the beauty of words. It's doubtful they ever mean precisely the same thing to any two people.

A haunting read that speaks of loss to me ... filled with some very strong images.
Anyone can write of beauty -- of life, friendship, love everlasting -- but it is those rare, brave souls who dare to live their words that are the true poets of the universe. That is where true beauty lies. ~JaML