Centuries of undying memoirs
Of earthly gay filled my serene soul.
Retrieving a pen of yesterday
Bruised thy hand so fine.
Trashing the visible corpse for thou,
Clouded the poet’s eyes.
I’ve been tired writing fancies
But the ink did want no halt.
Then, treasures were born.
But the Goodbye never left my memory,
As It was, still, jotted on it,
Still, It linger on my dreams-
The unusual gesture beamed at me.
Then , I took the pen
But the pen ran away,
Without saying goodbye.
Aurevior in the flesh.
-6th of February 2006