She is,but just a memory

she is but just a memory

not even words could explain it
not even the mouth could utter words
The mind was blank
yet the heart was full
The eyes had so much to tell,but had no voice
not even the mind understood at that moment
it was as though the emotions weren't invented from the brain
It felt like the morning after the burial
it felt like a part of her was left behind
if only people had met the younger
version of her
They sure would have enjoyed her
The happy her
The active her
The innocent her
The child her
The her that still hoped
believed
but the older she gets the more she forgets her younger self
The older she gets,the more of a fading memory she becomes to her brain
The older she gets,the more of a shell she becomes
The older she gets,the more empty she becomes
The older she gets,the more the light in her darken
The older she gets...does she even know herself?
but this is earth isn't it?