Memories,
What moments we hope to encase in amber,

Though revisited,
To feel as though we are returning home,

Though nurtured,
The times we were less alone,

Carefully we construe,
All we once ever knew,

Though the minds resin do not hold these moments,
For reconstruction distort preservation,

And memory in the mind,
is only as real as the ideal future

Preserve water from the rain,
make it useful than to drain

water brings us prosperity,
ruining it leads to adversity

reuse the depleting resource,
before you lose the source

find ways to curb pollution,
use technology for solution

it is all but
Lovers
whose smile extended to their ears
indulging the moment. it
is just light afterall
reflecting the minuest
of ****** expressions
suspended and trapped
on sheets of film. thus
to create illusions of eternity
light must be held captive -
a victim
by flashes
lasting
a heartbeat.

it is none
but a failed attempt
of a millisecond
to preserve

Love.

Do what you have to do
For the good of the pack
Because the pack is life

Do what you have to do
For the good of yourself
Because the pack is only a pack
Of the pups that make it up

Do what you have to do
To preserve the self
That which not only nourishes
Deconstructs

Time, as the bookkeeper,
who is perfectly punctual
yet pays little attention to pace,
often lets sands fall quickly
in the eternal hourglass.

This patient negligence
turns material possessions to antiques
occasionally handled but not bought;
turns shrinking bodies to ash or dust
that settles beneath the infinite grains;
and turns short-lived words to quotes,
vividly and enthusiastically chattered
by our fragile grandchildren.

If a single sand could beckon to Time,
which would it beg to preserve?

I yearn for love, but cannot give it
The pain inflicted on me is destined to come again
My heart lacks in passion
Body deprived of pleasure
And mind in fear of relapse

I wanted to preserve a bubble.
Pop!
Realisation pulled me through a tunnel,
taking me away from my vague fantasies
where are my black feathers? my wings?
Is this an illusion?
I thought I lost you.


**This is not the game we ought to play.