Ephemereal memories that dance like butterflies to the wind until the day they stop and seemingly disapear. Like fond images of a sunny day at the beach Sun bearing down hot, the day a beautiful haze of faces, maybe a smile? The memories forever lost to a seemingly endless sea but the recounted tales still yet live, to an end that is so out there that It seems less real, to a moment of happiness that only lived could be belived, like a memory of a day that never was to the truth of everything that could be, the endless march stops for no one or anything the search for a way back a way to bring it all back or a search for eternity that seems hopeless, yes it has meaning even if It doesn't come to an end, to appreciate life, death isn't necessary its only a sweet little lie to make our inevitable end seem less terrific, seem less as a pain than It truly is, because if something is inevitable what is the meaning to fight? Fight for your ideals? Fight for your dream? Or even fighting for the barest hint of Hope, fighting for a better tomorrow and fond memories of yesterday.

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