We Are But Memory

Morrighan's Muse

“What an abyss of uncertainty whenever the mind feels that some part of it has strayed beyond its own borders; when it, the seeker, is at once the dark region through which it must go seeking, where all its equipment will avail it nothing.  Seek?  More than that:  create.  It is face to face with something which does not so far exist, to which it alone can give reality and substance, which it alone can bring into the light of day.”

Remembrance of Things Past, Marcel Proust


We will all be a memory, everyone who is here
the past, the present, both coming together
long after we all disappear

So we cobble together whatever memories we can make,
with the ones we dearly love, even with the ones
whom we hate

And when the time passes us by, we are desperate to cling
to visions, feelings, and whatever else

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