Pristine Memories

In an obscure grotto they reside,
Veiled from the touch of your anguish,
Unscathed; they hide their visage.
And hide, indeed, they do,
From a dead man’s goggle; a cold whisperer’s sigh.

These pristine memories I retain,
A myriad of ambers and auburns I see;
From the meagre radiance I recall;
Entangled in a maze of hopelessness I believe,
This treasure I cherish, this treasure you loathe.

Then dawned upon me the grief you caused;
A realm of suffering you created for sure,
This ocean of rebellion you set loose,
These pristine memories you washed away;
These pristine memories you set astray.

They remain pristine no longer, these memories;
Torn in the most gruesome of ways;
Rivulets of tears shed for an unknown odyssey,
And yet thee courages to smiles.
These pristine memories I cherish, these you loathe.