I dwell in memories,
and wish the clock back.
Momentary rememberences
make it momentarily
exactly as it used to be,
even when I realise
it never can be.
But how I love to spend
my moments in these memories.
A large part of the memories
is filled by your name,
and in these memories
all is beautiful as it was
at the beginning.
I realise these moments
will never pass again.
But how I wish they could come back
if only momentarily.
An echo in time
is all that remains.
For an instant,
images scurry past
before shattering
in a moment.
And now I dwell in memories
perhaps for the last time.
And yet, leaving the memories
is rarely a choice.
Just like it used to be.
Who cares! I realise
that it can never be!
We wanted it
but we can never go back,
even momentarily.
An echo in time
is all that remains.
For an instant,
images scurry past
before shattering
in a moment.
The story of rememberence
barely makes any sense.
Regardless, everything I am
is within these memories.
Exactly as I used to be.
I can be this way no longer,
that is clear to me,
but I wish I could be that me
momentarily.
An echo in time
is all that remains.
For an instant,
images scurry past
before shattering
in a moment.