And it all comes down to this,
a fading memory that may soon barely leave a trace.
A familiar stranger, a faint scent,
a mere sound and distant place.
In time, all that's left are pictures from yesteryears.
Bears no weight nor value,
no significance nor worth a tear.
It once had its time and place,
for in it,it rested on being complacent.
Like fading joy,
this too was no accident.
Change is ever constant,
it leaves no time to wait.
Don't try defying gravity,
don't interrupt with fate.
And it all comes down to this.
Memories eventually erased.