Memories, what are their soul?
Where do they grow?
How should I know?
The eyes of our souls,
We search through our labyrinth,
Searching to remember,
Willing ourselves to know.
Yet why do we force ourselves unwilling,
To look at a past,
That brings only forboding?
Why do we strive with such stubborn conviction,
To find what is not treasure,
And lies so darkly hidden?
Do we fear remaining unknowing,
Of what we fear to know?
Or are we warey of being mistaken,
Of the pain that caused us to grow?
Do we wish to tempt that dark beast,
That eats at our dreams?
Find the source of our nightmares,
And be lost in repreive?
Oh memories, why are you there?
Why tempt us so,
And yet leave us bare?
Oh memories, would you rest in peace,
And not tempt our minds,
Let our hearts rest, deceived-
in a fantasy...
A white lie of a life...
Only deceit will set us free!