From Beneath The Grave

Your memory

Is

The memory of life.

Of the days,

When life was not the game of,

Breathing alone.

When the theme of life meant

– The soft sound of your distant footsteps

– The breathtaking sight of raindrops kissing your lips

– The cool comforting touch of your gentle hands

– And the fragrance of your beautiful thoughts

When life was life

As it should be.

 

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