THE PLACE WHERE MEMORIES DIE

Mainak Dhar

A moment frozen in time,

fading ever so surely.

Replaced by something much colder,

but much more pragmatic?

Idealism crucified on a cross of cynicism,

appears briefly like the stigmata.

But you are not a messiah,

for you cannot save even your own soul.

Bartered for a pound of flesh,

sold for a handful of dreams.

Remaining but a forgotten promise,

in the place where memories die.