The place for those who passed

How can she be happy if she forgets? Where is that place inside a person where those who passed on through one’s life are laid in peace; forgotten and lost in time and memory? What kind of heart would forget; what kind of mind would keep a person, flesh-and-blood and true, unremembered? If time heals all wounds, if time heals this wound, then time is indeed cruel and merciless. Is it so strange that some people would not let go of even the saddest times, as long as they had the reminiscence of a person? Is it so strange that sometimes, even if time moves on, that there’s no need for forgetfulness? Deep inside she knows there is no turning back on this memory; it is a shadow that will always engulf her being, and will always be hidden beneath her skin and her not-so-happy smile. She will travel, move along the shores of time, she will roam the world even but a time will come when she would be alone, when the world has hushed, and the lights are down… when there is no moon or sun in the skies. She will not choose to forget. She will sit down and delve in the memory; she will embrace it. For without it, without him, the night would be missing the stars. Without it, the heavens will be an endless black... like a menace dawning on her. The stars are what make the shaded space beautiful, worth the watch and the memory.-- Pakinam Amer