On Memories
Reflections by The village
What are memories if not the scrolls of the heart?
Is it not where we seek respite from life’s hectic schedule?
Yet within these scrolls often lay tainted pages. Pages that appear murkier with the aid of time. Time that heals all, or so they say.
But what of the ink that never fades?
Does it go ignored?
Or does it exist to teach us embrace?
Embrace the violation of its sanctity?
Sanctity that can never return?
With infinite pages to fill, the tainted serve but one purpose.
Reference. Reference and reminder. Through the existence of these pages, the two-in-one spring to life; purpose.
Yet in our darkest moments, we still cease to pay respects.
The two-in-one are rarely violent, preferring to exist as mannequins amidst the sands of time. As scribes whose prints never cease to appear harsher to the wicked.
Yet the reverse holds too.
Even amongst the senile does its tether remain strong.
The strongest of bonds never deteriorates.
The God mind never forgets, it only fades.
Author’s Note: I actually have no idea what I am doing here. But I figured going autopilot once in a while would do my intuition no harm.
P.S Nocturne Op.9 No 2 is fun to listen to while writing.
