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If memory does not...
A faculty of forgetting,
But not all, at last
Only a lament,
A clean, cross roads slate.
As the memory is the faculty of forgetting,
But not all in all, the last remaining light
I say it is subjectively occurring
When your doubts about yourself are the sole sight,
As certitude has sadly ended
As much as you have pretended,
Not fake before you make it,
Lamement it before you forget it.
Till you are a vague dark blank
Filled with innocence and hope
Or despair because it isn’t fair,
When you atheist call the last rites
When the one above, is the next bloke.
