So long, those messages begone
never-ending, thoughts forgone
in a box of some chips and wires
those sore thumbs and heart's desires.
Not mind the artist
but oh-so curious of colours,
getting us to paint, a canvas, a another world
where under late moon, around talks of star's shine
those details on and about living life
with understatement of understanding
just getting to the point, but just not saying.
In memory of you, there howls the wolf
for last glimpse of him to you
whilst the warmth is coated in your layers
yet is visible, the dent of memory on your fur.
By his oh so sorry claws adhere
side by side with the hunters fear
yet so daring of the deer
to protect the wolf though bonedeath near.
In memory of you, there a cereus blooms
the longing of hailing for you
with those thorn of paths, sit atop
with the servant bee for the aftermath.
Try be wise and never be a bye
bee will wait for it to bloom by
with sorry for all those unattended times
a lifetime of this short life,
the queen of night is the bee's hive.
Now can you see?
In memory of you, we've painted
a new world where deer celebrates wolf
with routine of wolf being in danger
with the deer as his saving angel.
the cereus too does bloom here
even once a night of the year
the bee is ready to serve the dear
hence so unique is that world, my peer.
But yet it is a time who knows the years,
in between those sore thumbs and tears
with the same box of chips and wires
it will have unknowing smiles and fears.
So long, yet so far but our world will live on a canvas,
would so be known as
in memories of you,
by us, painted layer by layer.