I know you are going to rise like Phoenix, shine like Sphinx of Egypt.
You are encrypted, crypted. Difficult to decrypt.
No longer i subscribe, prescribe to that.
No longer I inscribe your name.
But I describe you as beautiful, helpful, insightful.
Dreadful at times but delightful
Full light and fight.
Those memories are real stories of you.
Brownies, stationary we bought together.
Stuff we brought to each other made us better.
But latter it did not mattered as we battered, shattered our dream with own hand.
It became mad man's world put on hold.
Molded in to something cold.
Now it's old.
But memories worth holding on to.
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