Memory

The years have been short Since he arrived. Bound together we were, A game of silent sighs. He bled my soul of feeling No more warmth but; A beating cracked stone in A shell close to a corpse. Then you held out your hand, In a crowded room, And what a contrast you were, My colour returned. But I look back too much… And there is a parallel. Will you fade and Become a memory as well?