Memory Roots

I am lost in the sweet grasses of my past. Forever I wander alone as each foot is set upon the soft mossess of memories that I cannot forget.

Each tear I befall is the dew on the morning's rose; the example of my hard times traveled.

My soft pale skin is cradled in the warm wind of the present, though I cannot see its face.

The leaves fall from dying trees and brings a memory to the surface...

I see so many faces...of hate and anger, depression and joy. Can someone tell me who these people are?

I want to forget...
I want to live!

My soft, flowing white gown draped over the earth in a cascading river of illusion, hiding the mystery beneath.
Somehow these beings know me.

Oh, I wish to forget...
I long to live anew...
To sing a new song.

I wish the myth of forgetfullness and forgiveness still lived...for those friends died on seasons long ago.

I will not be torn into pieces by these razor-sharp leaves.
My emotions will not overflow from within!
My future is not real until I walk the present.

Please make the roots of memory disappear.