memory
The song without words.
The frame without picture.
My eyes without tears
My time is not counted.
Forgotten and not forgiven.
The night lies down to the ground…
My friends… I see them passing by.
Sometimes, I wave goodbye, as they
walk by, and sometimes I remain
silent, and just watch them disappearing
into the fog of the past. Sometimes
I missed them, and my heart
dips in my memory, dance with the shadows,
talk with the far echoes,
bounced from the wall of forgetfulness.
And sometimes I just want to be
alone and silent in the land of the dead.
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