I am omnipresent
But perceiving me is not rare; nor hard to find
I am every king, ruler, and every pathetic man’s fatal friend
I roam far and wide, but for many I claim daily
Some in tears, many in fear
But rarer yet in open arms
Riding away with you in my chariot, I see thy life
Hatred, anger, love and happiness
The ringing of laughter, the taste of saltiness of ones tears
These are but some of your memories
Try as I might to lock these up
But they seem to be freed of ones own accord
For I am unable to touch, nor destroy it
Yet one’s memories interest me
It’s filled with one’s unrequited longing… regret
For something they’ll never obtain
Their Achilles' heel for not being able to hide and lick one’s wounds
But instead be repeatedly stabbed, always yearning
I feel the need to console, comfort them even
But it’s impossible, because I will only bring more pain
Because for every hope I want to fulfill
I fail, for I am the very epitome of one’s calamity
Collecting souls each day, whilst awaiting my next vision
Of freshly picked memoirs