Memory.
A flower sprouted within one's mind
Keeps records or every color one created
In a bed of grass called the head.
A sea of torments as far as the horizon
A boat navigating through emotions
Fishes one night out of the ocean
And created feeling out of it.
The plaza of thoughts, where one ponders
Lampposts scattered though,
Lighting the way to the train
Thus a line of thinking created.
Why has the tree of knowledge sprouted within?
The draught it created, the river of memories
Where has it gone to? Where does it lead?
Cloud covered the light of truth.
Do not worry for the navigator is right here
It will lead us to the path of Tomorrow
As well as the Path of the Future
So don't forget the flower of Memory as well as Thought.