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I do not bewail the transient era that is youth. For in it, I was blind to the grandeur that is life. I was ignorant to love, and incognizant to its importance. Beholden to no strength, nor wisdom, nor virtue, I possessed no constitution that would urge nor encourage me to continue to love, even in the depths of loves absence. My existence bore no understanding of the gravity of human life, the influence of trust, nor the sageness of compassion. Tomorrow was assumed to be guaranteed and there was no urgency to my short time alive. All that was before mine eyes, the air in my lungs, those who stood beside me and those now gone, were all taken for granted. Tonight, these hot sea winds blow the amber coals of my cigarette back upon my face as unwelcomingly as the unwanted memories of my imbecilic youth. It miss it not. Let the clock spin. Bring me those ephemeral decades, for they only make the wine taste sweeter.