a cadaverous memory laid with tranquility despite its
foreshadowing fading existence from the nook of a silhouetted mind.
the flesh had become transparent, though this occurred long ago when
it was led astray from a path made from wild exuberance.

to lose a memory, is that a man made disaster? when we lose
a relationship with an identity of the past, are we thrusted into a state
of mind in which memories are tangled and weaved with bias emotions
since everything we are is merely passing in the realm of our universe?

still, what is more terrifying to the point where the unsound minds of
society develop a taste for being the causation of melancholy
is how easily people can leave us and be nothing more than a mere memory.