With evening comes melancholy , barefoot and unannounced ; cloaked in a reddish yellow tinge of dawn. It snatches away all mirth and stares at you while you sulk and frown.
Permeating your heart , like in winters through the trees you see the mist seep , until from every corner of your mind the old memories creep.
It keeps record of everything you best thought to forget , opening one after another like chapters in a booklet.
Bringing you the best ones first , the moments that make you smile with joy ; not knowing it's your enemy in guise you give in to it's deceitful ploy.
And soon it makes you realize that the people you love have gone , you can see them no more. You tell everybody how they still carry on living in your heart while in truth there is nothing but a sore.
The ones who are living are not the same anymore ; unfortunately the moments spent with them are etched in your heart like an old folklore.