Where will you hide your soul when memories come back to you haunt you?
There’s no redemption and respite,
The soul has no place to hide.
Of days long gone,
Of memories forlorn,
Of laughter mistaken as loudness,
Of stories so meaningless.
Don’t be worried, in the walks of life,
We’re little scurried and full of strife.
Running away from reality,
Smearing our thoughts with practicality.
Before we know, the day will come and go,
When we realize we’re dying a death so slow.
Moments to Stories 