Fading Memory

Ah! You were always in my bosom,
Like, I kept you always.
Ages past in my lucky days;
When my passion swayed,
And I was a blessed soul,
Energetic and matched, with your pace.
Now, cracks on my face,
And your splendour has grown,
Yet I foster dreams,
With glimmer in my eyes
To crave you to respond,
To my never-dying, passions.
O, my love! Where have you flown away?
To yonder mysterious world,
where beauty laughs,
at broken hearts and celebrates the death,
with sweet laughter and hopes;
here lies one, who was neither cared by God nor man,
Waste not your passions on him, he was barren.
Shedding tears for those nasty lasses who regarded his fun,
thanking the lord he is dead, this son of sod.