Memories are what we would call
the ephemeral hues
on the canvas of time,

the intricate outlines
of painstaking work
seeming a blur from the distance;

all blending into the faded echoes
of our past regrets.

I wake up under our tree, next to her
The oranges and pinks of the sunset in the distance are a blur

I don't even care that she's gone, she's next to me
"Rose, stop stressing!" She says, "can't you finally see?"

"You helped us! You saved us all."
"But you're dead," I respond, "so why do you stand tall?"

"Plus, it's not fully back yet, they're all gone still."
"I know, Rose. You're incredibly ill."

Her skin melts into the roots of the tree
The tree decays until just a stump in front of me

The pinks and oranges of the sunset turn into rain
I run through the dying grass, wondering if I'm sane

I run through thick fog until a ruined castle is in my path,
still injured from its past with the Wrath.

I then realized my nightmare must've been a memory
Behind me is him, "Hi, Professor Emery!"

I think to myself, "this will only be a memory of the past",
as the student's skin and the castle walls begin to melt fast.

What did that darkness in her eyes really mean?
What have those eyes really seen?

Did they mean a lot of guilt?
An infection not entirely built?

Like her brain had started to melt
Like a decaying flower, slowly to wilt

She closes her eyes, giving up to this embrace
As all her memories in the past begin to erase