I can see the fresh fragrance of our memories
vanishing into the tasteless air.
Invisible bees drinking the sweet and sour,
Bitter and salty nectar.
I’m watering them with
my time and blood
But it isn't working.
Each hug seems to be escaping
my consciousness in a fleeting second.
Feelings are slipping out
of my hands like mist.
That alluring violin music is fading away,
note by note.
And the directions, disappearing.
The gracefully radiant
bouquet of our memories,
I decorated with smiles and cries,
Is dying.

© Arcane