Memories Like a fistful of sand Leaky and incomplete Something I can't grasp Like talking in my sleep
Memories Of dreams in daylight Of things that never were Like reflected starlight Music gone unheard
Memories Of cold nights and warm lips Of skeletons and their prayers From buried paths they slip Abandoning their lairs
Memories Like a stream in the night It's darkest depths concealed Memories Like snow's last flight Melts as it's revealed
Someone said to me today (I forget who he was quoting) that it's the things we don't remember that define us I find this to be a somewhat unfortunate truth