The Gone by

Good times when they take shape
Vanish in a wink searching for a rapid escape

Volumes of book that once took us to zenith
Scatter as orphaned sheets in an old paper mart

Vibrant radiant blossoms upon the spring
Adore the bed for a last breath in the lung

Eddying waves of the mighty dreadful ocean
Linger frightfully silent at the crack of dawn

Music, even when the voices depart
Never from memory will they part