A whim of fate,
an indeterminate caprice of chance
Playing rainbow-like tricks upon reality
Assailed by Wills-of-the-Wisp
At last, I am now freer, for better or for worse…

Integrating not with the present
Memories take refuge in the past
Gradually distorted into pet creatures
of amber-eyed nostalgia
Parasite like, embedding themselves
into the very process of reflection
They take and give disproportionately

Butter-like in their viscous constitution
Memories melt like icy edelweiss
Exposed to the harshly placid heat of Helios
They simply and rapidly deteriorate
like the scent of picked wild flowers

For my own reminiscences have become fugitive
Like thin, fragile wisps
of moisture-fragmented morning mist
Fleeing through the wooden crevices
of household doors and windows
Silkily escaping like fine and golden sand grains from in between my fingers
And I cannot unendingly embrace them

You are passing back into oblivion
Into the shadowy recesses of inspiration
Further ago than your ego ever ventured
And I question whether it had entirely
delusionally transpired.