In a graveyard of memories,
it’s hard to find your rotten corpse.
Beneath the clay,
it decays.
Soon nothing will be left, but your bones.
If I dig, all I will get are the leftovers
of what you once were.
The stench of your dissolving organs
will be hard for me to bear.
Maybe I should wait, till you have nothing but bones.
When your bones will be all that’s left of you.
Maybe I will remember you,
admit I must, though I hate to.
There is a part of me that wants to see you
before I bury you again.
Such a sweet time it would be to see you,
in the middle of autumn when nature is dying too.
Amidst the dead leaves that decorate your tombstone.
I shall marvel at the skeleton of your memories,
if there’s a skeleton left to marvel at.
You see, memories are tricky things.
You never know when they would decay
and leave behind nothing.
Nothing but the dust that was once
the corpse of your memories.
No, I can’t take out your corpse
from the graveyard of memories.
It is beyond dead.
Beneath the clay,
let it stay buried instead.
Pic Credit: Wendy Scofield
This is wonderful!👌👌
👏👏👏👏