Memories

You are but a dream,

The whisp of an ideal,

A vision from my memory

That seeps through my fingers

Like the sand on a wind-blown shore.

A summer dream that warms me

In the chilly wind of old age;

A memory of a young man

Waking to life and deep passion.

A dream of happiness once

Possessed but foolishly left behind

Like a full moon setting

On a lazy summer’s night.

Hovering over the abyss of nothingness,

My soul shall find itself alone

In that silent solitude

Where the spirits of the dead

Await the awakening of memories.