Memories writ upon the parchment each day.
As like a diary being scribed of my life. And the time that has passed away. Stains of my tears have soaked the pages. Ink pots run dry in the expression of the pains.
Mold has set in the pages of old. Telling of lost love and friends now gone. Times and places I've left behind. Days when faith was weak and sorrow my song.
In the passing of time as I have become an ole gent. I have dreamed a million dreams to rewrite page one again.
Now as the quill shakes in my hand.
And the end surly nears with age.
It is with a heart of regret I scribe.
And close
the final page.
©abiosis
A