Jan 8, 2020
Memories;
Oh what remains,
I wonder;
What remains,
but a lucid dream?
Fragments of time,
shattered all over myself,
and I don’t know,
don’t know where to store them.
What remains,
but a smell,
already fainting in the wind?
What remains,
but a fading smile,
already replaced by tears?
What good is it,
to experience,
if there is no way to preserve?
That is why shed the tears of my aching heart over the pages,
to restore each and every of this memories,
at the instance of a blink.
So memories won’t have a chance,
to escape and run away;
so emotions can’t exctinct inside,
like a fire not to stop burning.
What I write down,
what I preserve;
they are not just memories.
They are moments,
they are feelings,
they are my life itself.
