The days of our future stand in front of us
like a row of little lit candles --
golden, warm, and lively little candles.

The days past remain behind us,
a mournful line of extinguished candles;
the ones nearest are still smoking,
cold candles, melted, and bent.

I do not want to look at them; their form saddens me,
and it saddens me to recall their first light.
I look ahead at my lit candles.

I do not want to turn back, lest I see and shudder
at how fast the dark line lengthens,
at how fast the extinguished candles multiply.

        ,------------.
    TT-"    _     _   "-TT
    ||     (o\---/o)    ||
    II      ( _ _ )     II
    ||__,--.(_(Y)_),--._||
    |/  "--"  ___  "--" \|
    /      ,-"   "-.     \
   /    _,~.      ,~._    \
  /   /(ooO )\__/( Ooo)\   \
 /_,~"_((_) )____( (_))_`~._\
(       "--"      "--"       )
 )__________________________(
  I_I                    I_I
 (___)                  (___)

                               ___           ___           ___
                 ___          /__/\         /  /\         /__/\
                /  /\         \  \:\       /  /::\        \  \:\
 ___     ___   /  /:/          \__\:\     /  /:/\:\        \  \:\
/__/\   /  /\ /__/::\      ___ /  /::\   /  /:/~/::\   _____\__\:\
\  \:\ /  /:/ \__\/\:\__  /__/\  /:/\:\ /__/:/ /:/\:\ /__/::::::::\
 \  \:\  /:/     \  \:\/\ \  \:\/:/__\/ \  \:\/:/__\/ \  \:\‾‾\‾‾\/
  \  \:\/:/       \__\::/  \  \::/       \  \::/       \  \:\  ‾‾‾
   \  \::/        /__/:/    \  \:\        \  \:\        \  \:\
    \__\/         \__\/      \  \:\        \  \:\        \  \:\
                              \__\/         \__\/         \__\/

                 ___
                /  /\
 ___     ___   /  /:/
/__/\   /  /\ /__/::\
\  \:\ /  /:/ \__\/\:\__
 \  \:\  /:/     \  \:\/\
  \  \:\/:/       \__\::/
   \  \::/        /__/:/
    \__\/         \__\/

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