What is left but your reflection the images of you tremble upon a fault line time apart has cast holes into memory with so little of you in recollection I fear that you will disappear you have become a shadow with no beginning isolated to moments I hold dear I can only reform you from distorted visions from my cast you start to slip away You soon collapse into oblivion to fall like dust though my hand and rise like smoke to dim my eyes alive and breathing but now you body has become the furthest thing from your mind still you remain closer than death Now left to embody what I hold near I have become the box I can’t break out of you remain the box I can’t break into attempt to clutch the clockwork of a deafend remembrance like screaming into deaf ears you are left misunderstood In shaded obscurity accompanied by mere absurdity take what is left and turn away
