Memory is a never ending abyss;
littered with joy and sorrow;
thoughts of death and a special kiss;
forever; becomes our tomorrow.
How does it collate each life event;
and keep each one in its place;
and what can it do, so it will prevent,
running out of time and space?
Memory can be a ruthless master;
dictating what you’re to think;
reminding you, of every disaster;
while driving you to the brink.
Memories of love, are even worse;
causing suffering, when it’s past;
not even allowing time to rehearse;
for a new love, not destined to last.
Why can’t memories, erase, every day;
and, each morning, begin life anew;
like young children, going out to play;
forgetting their homework is due?
The Master planned our memory this way;
lessons, aren’t learned, when forgotten;
life isn’t meant to be, all children at play;
we’re the chldren of the Master, begotten.
Memories; thoughts, become words;
transitioning into flesh, one day;
casting them into the abyss, is absurd;
they’re destined, to never pass away.