To a Departing Self

Memories, fond and sad,
Memories that leave trail of pain
Everytime it pierces through the heart,

Tears for forgetfulness shed in vain
Yet the strange longing
The desire to cling to what's been lost
Like the last straw of life-

The piano hurts more
In the rain
As it ends,
Harsh music fill the air
Hoping the throb in the ears
Would reduce the pain in the heart.

The futile attempt to pen the sadness,
The futile wish to return,
The futile want to revert time,
All sinking in the vast sand of nothingness...

As the realisation dawns -
They were never real,
They were meant to be memories.