Forsaken, Inevitable, the Memories Pound the Soul

The memories clash against the vaults that I have tried, oh so many times, to confine in the Void of my soul. Hiding these vaults gives me no joy, no pleasure, no rest, but merely a creeping pain, every hour of the day. I hear the pounding, it grows louder, it does not stop, when I grow careless, when I see the reflection in the mist, and within the shadows.

The Void is alive, It taunts me, amplified, insane pounding. I hear no music, but the noise, soul-shattering and the misery that the taunts carry.

Waves, pounding. Mercilessly.

Scent of memories, fermented by the Void, shatters my spirit, drowning and resurrecting it.
It is a matter of time. I prepare for the day, when I will embrace those memories with complete acceptance.

I. Am. Not. Ready. Now.

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