It’s a somber silent day
As mournful moments hold the heart sway,
For it’s the day when reminiscences would
Be buried; In the Graveyard of Memories.
Ah! Memories, Memories of unrequited love,
Of feelings deceived and of spirits broken up;
Memories of vicious words and merciless acts,
Of painful days and nights of tearful facts.
But what of the memories, those others of the mind:
Of days of tender reveries, and nights of the enchanted kind;
Of daydreams and dreamings of the savory nights.
And what of waking up happy and hopes flying high.
What of the dreams, seen with open eyes?
Of passionate love, that would never die.
And what of yearnings for a loving glance?
Hoping to be stolen from the lover’s rigid stance.
Alas! All are to be buried six feet under,
Death claiming all and making no blunder.
In the Graveyard of Memories,
Leaving behind only delusioned effigies.
