I could hear my trapped thoughts in fragments of an echo

Building on rusty memories

Frail it is, I admit

For I barely remember the colour of my lips or the composition of my skin

 

The earth’s succour left me bruised

Its tide, leaving me disoriented, afraid and confused

I cradled my impregnated soul but it miscarried

Watched I did, frustratingly

Unable to communicate effectively

And my ability to remember, sinking into sand

 

The loss of structure and function of my neurons burns deep

My solace, now a stranger

The merries of my breath, a bottomless pit

And I, now a fragile loner

Alone could understand my buried memories

 

I feel the sun beckons but only to burn

Its shapeless body, dirty

Colourless as water

Then it exits its tent

Its orbit

With no consent to set

Ah! My memories and body keep betraying me

The bond they share.....

The result: Dead on Arrival!

The mirage resurrection that still traps me in the tomb

An old man I am now... but more like a child

As I have become my son’s son

 

Maybe my mind needs to take the shape of water

To become earth’s pillars

To become the breeze

And drink ‘elixir of life’

So that I can claim infinity

And recover my full memory

 

True, a picture speaks a thousand words

But my memory and physical fitness would have spoken a million more!!!