Faith

"There's my life caught up in this labyrinth", I thought, complaining about my job and the town I stayed in. I was driving along a black highway, with rain tinkering away on the dust embossed car. The distinct rhythm of the windshield wipers was now a cliché, for rains were not rare these days. They waved in unison, dropping down with a little thud and rising together, trailing away the so-it-would-seem tears of the sky on the windshield.  

The tires echoed the screams of the gravel, the rain flawlessly preventing the dust from rising. The trees cast eerie shadows, now holding the rain only to let them drip in huge drops pounding on the car roof. There was nervousness in the air, the chill rising and fogging the view forward. Something appeared ahead of the windshield, I slammed the brakes as hard as I could. The airbag echoed like a mini explosion, louder than the bang that the car made against the road divider. Shreds of glass emanated  from the windshield as the rest of it formed a sort of clouded web, preventing them from falling. The engine came into a muffled & abrupt stop. I sat back for a few moments, aching at the chest and wiping blood off my brow, trying to steady myself. 

The car was wrecked and wouldn't start again, the engine shuddering off each time I cranked it. Stepping out into the rain, I looked ahead. The house was just a mile away. The 'Garners' lived there, years ago, until they all died mysteriously in a fire one night, much like this one. Grabbing my camera, a flashlight, voice recorder and a little notebook, I walked on close to the divider to avoid any oncoming traffic, but no one would probably come around here at this time of night. I punched in a message to my editor, who had wanted me to write this story of the Garners. This case was the first of its kind in my 3 year career as a reporter and I wasn't very willing but it would earn me the much needed reputation at this point. My cell phone returned an error saying "Unable to send text message", which was no surprise because there was no reception in this part of town. I felt a strong sense of foreboding, that this lone walk through the woods was probably going to be just one way... 

The Garners home was magnificent. The structure was still standing despite it being made of wood and the fire had eaten away most of it before the firefighters shun it down. I struggled to climb onto the compound wall which held lose stones, only to see the gate collapse off its hinges. The house still smelled of soot, suffocating, a sudden sense of fatigue coming over me. I walked on, almost falling over a giant log that crumbled under my weight, wild rats chasing away at the sound. The ironically dead 'living' room was cluttered. Partially burnt furniture, broken pieces of window glass and logs from the collapsed ceiling added to the decor. What would I find here? What story was I going to write? I wondered. What had happened here? I had to switch to the facts. The police had reported two bodies that were retrieved from the site, one of a man probably in mid 40's and that of an old lady in her 80's. They were identified as Mrs. Garners and Mr. Anton Garners, her son. 

Mr. Garners had died several years ago in a car accident a little away from the house. The fire in the house was notified by a neighbor who later left the place 2 weeks after the incident. There was no clue about his whereabouts. Not many lived in this part of town and the Garners' incident had discouraged real estate to these parts recently. I walked up the staircase, holding on the feeble hand railing to support my weight on the stairs. Some of the stairs broke sinking my leg into them. Slowly, I managed to climb to the first floor somehow. 

The first room had the whole ceiling fallen in. The rain outside had not stopped, but the fresh air and moonlight were a welcome relief. Something was gleaming on the blackened wall as I pointed my flashlight at it. Gingerly, I wiped the soot off it to find a mirror. Suddenly, I flinched and took a few steps back as I found someone looking at me from the mirror. Almost tripping over the clutter, I looked again to find that there was a picture of a girl right across the room, opposite to the mirror. Catching my breath, I walked closer to the portrait. Surprisingly, the portrait had not sustained any damage. It was a picture of a girl in her mid-twenties, her hair dropping onto her shoulders and her eyes with a sense of pain in them, like they had something to say to me. There was a small sign below it that said "Happy Birthday to me, Sarah". Sarah? Who was she? There was no police record of finding her body. A hundred questions popped up in my mind. I recorded a description of the house, the room and about Sarah on my voice recorder. I decided that she would be the character of my story, I would tell this story through her. 

I searched her room for anything that said about who she was. I pulled out logs and roof tiles to find an iron box under her bed. Wrenching it out of the debris with all my might, I opened it to find clothes, a make-up set and a hand mirror in it. There was a little diary at the bottom that had "Faith" etched over it. There was a miniature portrait of her that had her signature "Sarah Sanders" behind it. She was beautiful. The pages in the diary only had her writing as "I was beaten today. I have no one to tell", which was repeated again on most of the days. Some pages were blank and some were bloodied, probably because she was hurt. I needed to know who she was and who was doing this to her. Could it be the inmates of the house? I clicked photos of what I could see. Searching the rest of the rooms had not revealed anything relevant. 

I sat down at my office table the next day, tired, trying to figure out what had happened. I played my tape several times to go through the facts again but that seemed futile. My voice seemed to have gone dull in some points of the recording and replaced by some kind of buzzing sound. I could not figure out what the noise was, probably an issue with the recorder. The police records on a girl named Sarah Sanders turned out to be null. I did background checks on Anton and Mrs. Garners but that returned nothing except that they were into farming and they occasionally visited the town hospital for Mrs. Garners' arthritis. Mr. Garners' accident several years ago happened at the same divider that I had collided against last night. The car I was in was wrecked pretty bad. I was simply lucky to be alive. 

Sarah became an obsession with me all day. I found myself thinking of her and searching on the internet to read about her. Later that night, I lay in bed, only to feel faint bruises on the sides of my arm below the shoulder. I got up to check myself in the mirror and was shocked to find hand imprints! I recounted the events of the previous night. I had a faint remembrance of being held tightly from the sides during my accident, as if someone was in my car behind me at that time. No! This didn't make any sense! I just had to be imagining things!

 Sleep was instant, my body drifted off as if in a dream. When I woke it was still late at night but I felt fresh. Sitting at the table, I checked the scars on my arms but they were gone. Ha! I was imagining. I tried to relax, listened to music but that didn't get my mind off Sarah. I plugged in a pair of earphones to listen to my recording of the previous night and along with that flipped the photographs that I took, one by one from each room. The buzzing sound that I heard was there again. I increased the volume to concentrate on it. "Chur" I suddenly heard a voice say. I plugged out the earphones to make sure I was alone. The more I listened to it, the more I heard the word, "Chur" and a slight whistle at the end of it... I didn't believe in ghosts or spirits. But I'm sure someone was saying something to me while I was there. 

I went back to the dilapidated remains of the Garners. The sky was clear from her room. I stood by the window, looking into the nothingness ahead. A gleam of light glistened somewhere far. It was strange. I did not know there were anyone who lived in the vicinity. I walked towards the light. The street was empty and dark but the light grew brighter. 'Chur'... I kept turning it my mind to think what this could be. The bitter cold sent occasional chill down my spine, my legs numbing... 

 Finally! The voice was trying to say "Church". Though I was trying hard to catch my breath, I couldn't help smiling as I looked up at the light from the church. The Church had been old with an adjacent graveyard. I was surprised how this didn't show up in any of the records. I walked in to see the father. The door creaked as if it wasn't opened in a long time. Large lamps overhead cast shadows from the benches below. "Father" I called out as my voice echoed throughout the church. The Father was silent and walked to the center of the hall, where I stood. "Yes, my child. I know why you have come". His deep voice echoing along the hallway. 

It didn't seem intelligible to me to ask him how he knew. This whole incident felt like it was being string pulled from heaven. The father led me to a grave stone, that said, "SARAH SANDERS" 1973 - 1999. She was married to Anton Garner, in this very same Parish. The father recounted, her daily confessions to him of being beaten and abused by her husband, the bruises on her hands from being tied up and assaulted. The husband believed "she was a sin and must be kept in chains".

We walked back to the Garner's house where the father revealed a chamber in the basement which had not taken any damage. There were beds with sheets covered in blood and shackles that were there to hold the victim. There were blood stained tools that could inflict pain. I felt I could hear Sarah's screams. I felt weak. "Why didn't you tell the cops or someone?" The father was silent. He walked into another chamber as I followed him. I felt something hard against the back of my head and fell to the ground. I could see blood trailing as he dragged me out of the chamber. The father removed his Cassock, revealing himself to be Anton Garners. "I inherited this when I killed father Gonzalez. She kept telling him everything. It had to be done. " he said, referring to the Cassock. ” Then I set the house on fire with him and mother in it" he said, chuckling in a half wheeze. 

Trying frantically to get up, I threw a pair of shackles at him. Grunting, he lunged at me but a chandelier hanging off the roof fell upon him. I gathered all my might to crawl to the door, which shut itself as I got out. I could hear him banging at the door as I tried to get as far from the house as possible. There was the sound of something crashing and I remembered no more.

I woke up in the morning, flinching on finding someone near me. "Relax. It's a paramedic" my editor said from beside me. "What happened?" He asked. I was too dazed to think. "You were lucky. The floor collapsed into a hidden underground chamber which we did not see before." Said a police officer. "Besides, what were you doing here? We got a call from someone late at night saying there was something goin' on here" 

A week later, I visited Sarah's grave. I lay a few flowers on her grave along with her diary she named "Faith". Later that day, I typed the first draft of the story that I wanted to name as "Sarah". It was more of a revelation than a story. This was no longer something I was doing for my reputation. It was a tribute to Sarah for the pain and hardships she endured in her life. I reflected on how Sarah changed the person I was. I never believed in souls, or the afterlife but more than anything I knew she had saved my life. I had realized later on, there was a presence that night in the car wreck. It could have been her... Maybe she chose me to tell her story...

"May Sarah rest in peace and be gifted a better life after reincarnation." I stopped typing, closing my eyes, wishing I could get to see her someday. Someone knocked at the door. Stretching and yawning in the chair, I got up to get the door. The late afternoon sun gleamed outside the house. There was no sign of anyone in the near vicinity. Considering that I would have just imagined it after all the ordeal I had been through, I walked back to my room and to the computer.

I was freaked and couldn't believe my eyes when I looked at the screen. I looked around the room frantically but found no one. There, below the conclusion of my story, someone had typed in: 

"Some things you just have to take on faith"

Just for a moment...

I just wish for one more day... Just one more moment...

To say the things that I couldn't because I still need to learn to forget how to love you. I still need to forget how your shoulders would cradle my head, how I could feel the beating of your heart against my chest. I need to remember to forget your smile, the sweet scent of your hair, the funny expressions in your eyes...

I need to forget that first kiss, in the moonlit street, those warm arms wrapped around me. I need to know that I don't need to fight anymore, I don't need to pretend or hide anymore, because you are there. I need to fall asleep once more, knowing that there you are beside me, breathing love. I need to forget how I let go, unwillingly, thrashing every bit of my heart.

I just wish for one more day. One more moment, to undo everything, to say goodbye to you again and to turn back time from then on... Undoing the times we've fought, the times I've made you cry, reliving our blessed and lovingly intimate moments... To know what it was like to wake up in your arms... To go back to the moment I first met you, to fall in love with you all over again...

Just one more moment... A moment called lifetime...

25 things I've learned from Relationships...

1. There is no sense in mourning for something all your life. Just think of it this way, whatever you loved and ended up losing, was lost before you had the chance to see it become something else that you wouldn't love anymore. Move on. Respect it and let it remain a memory, not a shadow!
2. The world is not about just 'you'. There are a lot of other things in it. Other people's feelings included.  But it's also true that if you don't take care of yourself, no one else will! You need a balance. 
3. Most girls only need to be listened to. Your opinion is rarely ever required. If you opine, you're mostly in trouble. Why? Try this. Fill the blank with yes or no.  ____ I am a fool. 
4. There is no love at first sight. No, not up for debate. Love is about understanding and acceptance, neither of which exist at first sight. 
5. A rebound is always a rebound. Sooner or later either of you will realize that you two hooked up to replace your past breakups. What's following the realization is being total strangers. 
6. If a girl tells you that she doesn't believe in love or she hates love, she's just had a big breakup. If a guy says so, the odds are that he's interested in you but needs you to push. Look into their eyes! 
7. If persistence is working, she'll give you the signs early on and trust me, you will know. If not, you have been quarantined & friend zoned. Do not waste your time. Good Afternoon!
8. Nobody cares much about you unless they really have some feelings for you or you care for them or both!
9. Sympathy and pity might help in winning a girl over. But then, you aren't a real man!
10. Never judge a woman by what she wears. No, just don't. She is beautiful, no matter how ugly she looks. But that's no hard & fast rule!
11. Do not take people for granted. They have feelings too! 
12. If she truly appreciates & cherishes something simple for a gift, marry her!
13. Guys, never tell a girl she's being a bitch. When she cools down she'll come to you herself and say, "Honey, I've been such a bitch to you. I'm sorry". Savor the moment. 
14. Sometimes it happens that people share a large chunk of their sorrows with you, but later on, this makes you a part of the past that they are trying to forget. They slowly tend to push you away since you know too much about them and that makes them uncomfortable in some way. Move on, give them the space they deserve. They will always remember you. 
15. If someone you haven't met or don't usually cross paths with, likes confiding in you, it's not always because of affection or trust. Some people feel comfortable sharing things with a stranger, because they know you can in no way affect their lives or maybe gain your acceptance since you don't know the whole story.  
16. Love is like an investment. There's always expectations connected with it. It's normal since everyone has needs and nobody is Jesus. 
17. There is always a need for space, no matter how much you love each other. 
18. If he / she cannot fight for you, they don't deserve you. 
19. If someone marks you as an option, nothing you do can change that. Commitment is when someone accepts you for who you are, not because you are better than contestant 2. 
20. If someone says they miss you even when you're near them, it just means that everything is not the way it used to be. Something's wrong.
21. Everybody deserves a second chance. But only if they truly repent. And there's no sure way of knowing if they do! :) "Something's change while something's never do." ~ Morpheus 
22. Whenever you need someone badly in your life, stop to think whether it is because they had a place that you could give no one else, or because they simply filled a void in your life. In the latter case, work on yourself. In the former, give it time.  
23. Remember that brooding over someone who you broke up with, causes you to subconsciously place them at a higher position in your heart than what they once occupied. You will tend to see only the good in them and blame yourself for what went wrong, lowering your self esteem and slowing down your healing process. In the words of Arnold Schwarzenegger in terminator 3, "Don't do that!"
24. Never judge or make conclusions about people. Only make inferences. Inferences can be changed, conclusions cannot. It's human tendency. 
25. The truth in loving someone lies in having to let go... There is no love in holding people back from what they want. What's yours will always come back to you. 

Last of all, I read the following quote somewhere the other day, not sure who it's written by, but it's perfect... 

"Try not to confuse attachment with love. Attachment is about fear and dependency, and has more to do with love of self than love of another. Love without attachment is the purest love because it isn't about what others can give you because you’re empty. It is about what you can give others because you’re already full." ~Anonymous

Pursuit of Happ'y'ness

There is life between these shimmers they say, the glowing embers of happiness and the brimming sense of gloom. I've been there, spent a long time savoring the little victories, sobbing the horrific losses, quenching my thirst in the unfathomable sea of love. Wait? What am I saying?

If that didn't make sense, let me get down to do some more light hearted jabbering! Once, my friend and I sat watching 'Kung Fu Panda' on the night before an exam. It gave me some amazing points to reflect at life. Like life being a present (gift) and there are no accidents, everything is how it is meant to be and blah blah! :P I could tell you, I have never been that happy in days then on. Not coz the exam went disastrous but well, now even years later, working in a good company doesn't give me that happiness I had in college years. I have a lot more things than I had back then. Yes, things produce an environment conducive of happiness, there's no denying that. And I wouldn't be half as happy now if I didn't have all the new stuff. I hope this is making sense! :D I simply can't live without my phone, ipod or gamer pc.There's a lot more in life now, like five stars, luxurious airports, malls to buy stuff from (previously window shopping), new clothes for every occasion and beautiful gadgets (need them or not).

Though I fancy and absolutely love the things I just mentioned, and God forbid that I would have to leave them someday (save for death, which we all do), there is always a contrast from what used to be and what's now. Like food at the restaurant near college. It was never all that great, for I have tasted better. But the difference was only the impression it made back then. Then waiting for the train at the station with a song blaring from the nearby tea stall. People flooding the station like bees in a swamp. It carried us home every weekend and nothing brings back that feeling anymore. Staying in the hostel with friends, simply made anything a reason to celebrate. Waking up in the room next morning for class and finding everyone else still sleeping around you was so consoling. Fighting for the window to look at the hot junior walking into the building, pardon me, I still ogle discretely if I get a chance, but somehow, I feel the fun was about the fighting and not really the girl. And somehow, I have lost my liking for a lot of things. I can no longer enjoy finger dipped tea. Even though at one point, it had become so much of a routine that I used to console myself that "the chai waala would have washed his hands. He only makes chai doesn't he?" I do not wish to think what else he does with his hands :P

Also, along the years were some beautiful things. The first time taking your crush on your bike, the first kiss by the empty courtyard in the rain, suddenly start attending classes because you get to see her and finally the heartthrob when she inevitably walked off with someone else someday (except for the nerds, everyone else I know had a story like this). What's changed now? I still have my friends. I still roam about ogling, I still catch up with them at KFC instead of Shukoor's shop near college, I still run about and dance like crazy when it rains... Just that, It was all 'enough' at that point. Our expectations were less, our life was just more... Now it's simply gone the other way round. And here, I am, asking myself, "what's new?"

Like most people I know, I'm pushing a 14 hour routine. I watch them rush, complain, crib, cry, try and make more money, buy more gadgets, decorate homes with the comfy furniture. But simply, life has gone timeless, breathless and simply, less. I'm not going to tell you to go watch the sunrise while you can snore away to glory on a weekend. But, I still remember how good it was to ride with my friend on the bike to his stunt practice ground early in the morning at 5. The foggy picture we took that day is still a memento in my fb account.

Flashback aside, with all the complexity of today's life, there is simply more at every corner that gives you happiness, if you look hard enough.  And mostly, all of them come for 'free'. Yep, the word free usually brings a smile on our face, but that's not what I'm talking about. I drive to work every day even though it's in a walk-able distance (yep, lazy). and every single day, the place I park my car has a truck guy pulled up beside it unloading groceries to the nearest shop. I just can't take my car out! There have been times that we have argued and I'm sure we both mutter under our breaths about each other. Just this one weekend, I was just going to get some groceries, but he thought I wanted to take the car. I was in a good mood and smiled at him and waved indicating that I wasn't going to. It kinda made me happier for a while that day and simply every morning afterwards we smile & wave at each other and he moves his truck away so I can take my car. I don't know him, but there's some happiness watching someone smile because of you.

Back a few days, I was out on a helping spree. I gave a poor guy a hand with the tire iron trying to loosen his flat tire. (No, I didn't blast open his skull with the tire iron :) - I'm clarifying coz I just had a feeling you might think that). I managed to help him  and the guy shook hands with me and said "strong man". Well, it wasn't about the compliment. :) But you know, I have felt happy this way, innumerable times, doing little something's like stopping the car to let an old uncle cross the road, giving another vehicle a side amidst the traffic so that he can get into the lane, helping someone jump start his car early morning, saying "It's gonna be alright" to a random stranger who is seated by the park crying to herself (yes I tried this and she only smiled - do not use this as an opportunity to flirt!), waving to a little kid who sat bored in the backseat of a car, and even giving half of my shawarma to a hungry looking cat... :) Hehe

A lot of the people (& the cat) I mentioned are those who did not know me and who I probably will never get to know either. But it felt good to have them smile over something I did. It felt good to have them remember something about me for a split second and probably in later days when someone else treated them like I did.

Well I'm not saying this will give you or me ultimate happiness. But maybe, what you did today for someone might just come back as a big favor to you someday. Just think of it this way, We do a lot to put our today's and tomorrow's in luxury. We pay a lot to bribe hearts to love us.We do a million things that don't matter to impress and get accepted. But maybe, it's the little things that matter in the brevity of life. Maybe it's just worthier to leave something to remember you by, even if it is as effervescent as a bubble. 

After all, in the end, life is nothing but just a memory. Happy happiness to you! :) 

Untarnished - From the lady's heart...

And she remembers...

"I don't want to be a drama queen, you really know I'm not into that stuff. But things you did always motivated me, always made me smile when I was hurt. Remember the first time you just sat beside me and I was crying in class? You just put your arms around my shoulder. You didn't ask me what I was sad about, you knew that would make me cry more. You just sat there while I sobbed. It was a cold winter day and I was shivering. You told me it was going to be OK. Told me that you believed in me. And you left me your jacket and told me to sit alone for a while. I still have that jacket. I guess you forgot and I never wanted to give it back.

You took those seminars in class, I wasn't listening. I was looking at you. Most of the days, you were absent from class and I didn't always get to see you. You were always lazy, so I submitted some of your assignments, I signed your attendance. You never knew. You were just busy making everyone smile and happy. The day your best friend back stabbed you, I was there, watching those tears in your eyes while you wouldn't let them fall. When you fell off your bike one day and hurt yourself, I sat beside you in the hospital till you woke up, I hid myself away among the other friends and my voice was drowned behind their hearty hugs. When you wouldn't close that window next to your bench when it started to rain, because you loved the feeling of the cold summer rain against your face, I sat at the other corner of the lecture hall, feeling the rain in your heart. When you would walk along those corridors, I would know from the scent of the perfume you would wear, though I never really liked that perfume.

When everyone hung on to the arms of their lovers when going home on weekends, I watched you kick a little Pepsi can in the rain, all the way from class till your bike. Among all those colorful umbrella's and blend of uniforms, you couldn't spot me when you looked back. I waved at you when I was leaving in the bus, you ran behind the bus like I always hoped you would do for me, but then I blushed when it was to simply hand over a book to a friend. I would listen to the rhythm of the back bench guys beating on the benches in between class hours. I knew you were always the one who didn't have a tune to beat to and it would be irritatingly distinct. I remember the songs they sung and the one's you loved humming. I hung out with you, sat beside you on that college tour we had. When you slept your head found it's niche on my shoulder. I did cry when everyone made fun of us and I still have the photo they took of us. I remember how someone jokingly dared you to propose to me on stage on our college foundation day. I still remember the thorn on the stem of the rose you held in your mouth had cut your tongue. It was a painful proposal for you. I tried not to laugh, I tried not to cry, I tried not to blush. But you were boring anyway.

I watched you sing for our farewell but never told you how wonderful it was. I still remember the last day when everyone were signing on each other's shirts. I had this new dress and wouldn't let anyone sign on it. But I let you sign when you asked with a cute frown on your brow and you drew a big heart and wrote Captain Jack Sparrow's favorite dialog to Elizabeth Swan: "It would never have worked between us, darling" I knew you were a movie buff, but somehow the words' seemed right. I have loved you, over the years. I have enjoyed how you wouldn't ever eye me or touch me wrong. I loved the respect you gave me. I loved the hug you gave me before we all parted. It still lingers around me... I scribbled on your shirt that I hated you and wished you would know what I meant. I wanted to kick you when you signed lady Laura's dress with "Will you marry me?" but I knew you'd never liked her all that much except that she looked too good. Maybe I won't find that 'you' in years to come. I may not have been that 'her' that you have always wanted. I just wanted you to know that you were my everything and you will always be...

"But it would never have worked between us darling...." "

Letting Go...

"We create our own demons..." 
"Who said that? What does that even mean? Doesn't matter..."  ~ Iron Man

Often, we love to blame someone for our own mistakes. "I didn't do this" because of someone. The only choice we have, to put it a little differently, is to blame our past self's for it. "I didn't do this because of who I was." But often, even that doesn't change anything. You say that it was your past, but it's still a place from where you haven't walked off yet. And believe me, you just can't accept that you haven't.

Soon, the sense of Deja Vu makes you mumble, "Why am I here again?" when you walk past your coagulated and convoluted yesterday. It works the same way, be it pain or hollowed complacence that you have buried in those pages. 

You did this to yourself. When life gave you a million reasons to walk on, but you just held on for years for a miracle to happen.  You refused to believe when time showed you that it could change anything. That nothing ever lasted forever. That no matter how long you spend trying to climb out of the mess that you were in, you could still fall back in an instant. Something that you believed to have conquered. And someone just called in, to tell you that what you believed true for a lifetime was just a big lie. 

A million turns to the path that you are on, a number they call your 'age' frantically ticking toward the other side of life, and memories tucked away in your pockets that you have no new space for new;  letting go has never been easy. There was rain, always glistening and gnawing away at the deeply seated scars. Scars do fade and wounds do heal, if you let it. 

Simply, the only shackles that hold you back are the ones in your mind.

Simply, "We create our own demons..."

Faint Memories

At an hour plaintive and bare;
I lay before an open window;
Blessed a breeze blew along;
And yet, the night fell into silence.

The melancholy soul of an old friend came unto me;
And spoke upon voice so shrill;
With wordless words I could not perceive;
And sadness that I could not relieve.

Years and years of memories;
Moments of laughter and tears;
Like fading ripples and smithereens,
Broken hearts, love and fears.

And still, a fainter shadow;
She looked upon my friendless soul;
Like a sailor of the lost without a heading,
Cold, broken and dreading...

A drizzle lead to the accent of dawn;
Shivering her to the brightening of the lawn;
All was left, to the shadow I could see;
I whispered the words, "Remember Me."