The speaker can’t simply shut their eyes the way a door closes. Sleep is not a choice, because something inside them fights back: a restless, “ruthless” longing keeps battling the past. They want to rest, but as soon as they close their eyes, their mind fills with images they did not invite. The pale moon and the face of a dying mother move slowly through memory, silent and impossible to escape.
The mood is quiet but tormented. This is not loud grief; it is the kind that visits at night, in stillness, and keeps a person awake. The poem suggests that memory, especially the memory of losing a mother, can be stronger than the body’s need for sleep. The speaker is caught between wanting peace and being pulled back into sorrow.