A Year To Live

A year to live

A year to die

A year to feel alive

A year to feel dead inside.

The clock ticks,

Hearts are destroyed,

Many hold back tears,

While others flee.

Tick. Tick. Says the clock.

The timer is closing in

Memories closing in

Shadows stopped dancing

Even the dead watches in silence

As the fingers get ready

To push the big red button

Stop!

Don't do this to us!

The people beg,

Begging for their lives.

Their begging is unanswered by the men in suits

And soon they will vanish with the memories

But we will remember for centuries.

For they were our batteries

And we were their viewers.

For they had made a masterpiece.

One so geat that many stared,

Eyes stared at the price

The price of the dice.

A year to live.

A year to die.

A year to feel alive.

A year to be dead inside.

We dread this time

The clock has stopped.

And like graceful swans

The button is pressed by their delicate touch.

The memories began to fade

By the end of the blade

A shade has overdone the land

And all is lost.

But fear not, for they were never gone.

They will never leave.

Left behind the legacy, as more shall follow,

A year was left to live.

A year they lived.

A year of shelter.

Then the year was over.

And it became the year to be dead inside

Fear not, dear ones,

For we shall remember them.

Their stories are here.

Here in our hearts, is all that matters.

Memento Mori.

Unus Annus to live.

But Memento Mori Came.

And kept Unus Annus's promises.

Now the secrets, the artwork,

Lay in the hands of Memento Mori

Who stares over them, keeping it's guard up.

For the skull shall not leave it until we put it to rest.