in english she says move on

but in poetry I say, my moon is floating in space half full and it is devoid of light, slowly I become a beacon of darkness guiding darkness upon my heart a heart that once teamed with light and beauty. so believe my poetry when it says that I am but a rose petal plucked from the bush I slowly wilt away in to the empty abyss, just like fire im burning myself out while I wallow in pain and regret how I wish I could turn back time and take it all back, But alas it's an impossibility filled with improbability. I wish I could turn the tide but I process not the might of a hurricane. forget would be demolishing a dune I built in the desert. im really hurting