بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم

Emotional Memory

The days have grown old, weak and tired of this promised dream;
I forgot what it feels like to hear you cry; to hear those shed tears of loneliness;
To observe the heart bleed of separation; shall this pain retreat or will it become one for the angels to weep;
Memories have become old and stale, the delicate fragrance which satisfied your soul bought calm to your ocean, has long gone.
The candle still burning steadily, the flames rage not about to give up its territory.
The Keeper keeps hope at bay;
The Keeper will allow us to be free someday.
tempest 21/12/04 ©