Through the turbulent clutters of our narratives
Composing our souvenirs of what echoes as memories
Some forgotten, whereas others are vivid
Buried as a time capsule of stories
Awakened through the clamor of silence
What once was, no longer remains
The departure of its’ essence was overdue
A flight long gone, the memory stamp is what retains
A scent of solitude, sprayed through the companionship of retrospections
It could be place, a person or even a feeling
At one point, they all felt like home.
Now turned into one with no ceiling.
A Memorable Place
